My husband—one of the top elites of Raventon Street, cold and ruthless to his core—keeps a stray orphan girl he rescued from the slums hidden in an apartment.

Rowena Fletcher is clean and fragile, like a newborn creature untouched by the world. And somehow, that innocence softens something in Micah Benson—a man who's spent years clawing his way through the brutal wilderness of capital.

He thinks this secret game of his goes unnoticed, but I find out anyway.

At the Benson family's charity gala, I smash his favorite antique vase in front of everyone. He doesn't even flinch as he simply signals the bodyguards to clean up the mess and then hands me a divorce agreement.

"Sign it, Sabrina. The penthouse in Ashbourne City is yours."

I burn the divorce agreement—and that's when he finally shows his true colors.

He freezes all my accounts and launches a hostile takeover of my gallery.

On the night the storm hits, I get a call from the hospital. My sister, Roberta Slater, has been in a car crash—she needs emergency surgery.

In the security footage, he stood there, watching coldly. "Sign the papers, or start planning a funeral."

I dropped to my knees and slammed my forehead against the floor, blood trailing down my face as I begged, "Micah, please… don't…"

A long, flat beep echoed from the other end of the line, slicing through the sound of rain. Then a voice on the line says, "We did everything we could."

However, I have gone back in time—to the day I first found out about Rowena.

This time, I no longer cry. Instead, I plan my divorce on my own terms. I call Valebrook Bank that same night and begin preparing for a quiet disappearance.

But the moment I truly vanish from his world, Micah loses his mind.

Sabrina's Point-of-View

In my past life, I only dared to linger outside Micah Benson's private study, stealing glances at the wall covered in photos of Rowena Fletcher through the crack of the door.

But now, reborn, I wanted to see for myself the woman who made the cold, untouchable man of Raventon Street lower his guard.

"Denton, liquidate all the assets from my parents' trust fund. I want the full amount wired to the Velebrook Bank within three days."

After issuing the order to Denton Gibson, I contacted my lawyer to expedite the divorce agreement. Then, I drove to the Deaf and Non-verbal Community Center in Briar Glen, where Rowena worked.

She was crouched in front of a pile of battered children's books, carefully taping a torn page back together. Beside her stood a sweet-faced boy, communicating with her in sign language.

The late afternoon sun poured through the high windows, casting a golden glow around her frame. She looked untouched by the world, like an angel who had accidentally stumbled into a broken corner of it.

No wonder Micah had lost control because of her.

"Watch out!"

Suddenly, a steel bookshelf beside her creaked and collapsed with a deafening crash. I instinctively took a step back.

But Rowena lunged forward instead. She threw herself over a tiny, trembling kitten, shielding it with her thin frame.

As the steel bookshelf fell, the sharp edge of the rusted frame slashed across her arm. Blood seeped through her white T-shirt in an instant.

She flinched but didn't cry out. Instead, she turned quickly and cradled the terrified kitten in her arms.

"Don't worry. The shelf just tipped over. We'll get it upright again." She gently stroked its fur.

I froze on the spot as I watched her. Rowena's blood dripped onto the floor, a silent testament of her kindness.

Ten minutes later, I took her to a clinic to treat her wound. Her skin was so fair that it nearly looked translucent, but the angry burn scar on her wrist stood out starkly against it.

"What happened here?" I asked.

Rowena looked down and gave a small smile. Then, she explained, "I was burned by an oven while working at a diner. It's old—it doesn't hurt anymore."

But I remembered something Micah's psychiatrist had once said. He despised scars. They reminded him of the fire that had turned his childhood into a nightmare.

Yet he had always accepted Rowena's imperfections.

I took a bank card from my handbag and placed it firmly into her hand. "Use this to fix the place up. Consider it an early gift from me."

In a month, Micah and I would be officially over. I wanted to leave this behind with some dignity.

But Rowena shook her head and pressed the bank card back into my palm. "Thank you, but I can earn my own money."

Just then, her phone buzzed softly. When I saw the encrypted number flash on the screen, a sharp pain cut through me. It was Micah's private line—one I had never gotten access to, not even after 13 years by his side.

On the video call, his voice was low and tender, carrying a warmth I had never known. "Did you get hurt?"

Rowena's ears flushed pink. "It's nothing serious… You don't need to come."

I could already hear the soft growl of an engine pulling up outside.

It took him only 12 minutes to get from the heart of the financial district to the city's old district.

He knew everything about the woman he loved. Rowena had barely gotten scratched, yet he had crossed the entire city for her without hesitation.

The moment he stepped through the door, his eyes held only the reflection of that fragile, innocent woman he adored. There was no space left in them for me.

I let out a soft, bitter laugh.

The last time I collapsed from food poisoning, he had only sent a single message through his housekeeper. "Don't die at home. It's bad luck."

As it turned out, it wasn't that he was incapable of love—he simply didn't think I was someone worth loving.

I gave Rowena a polite smile and took a step back. "Your friend's here. I'll leave you two alone."

Sabrina's Point-of-View

After Micah returned from the clinic, I took the divorce agreement and headed straight to his office on Raventon Street.

"Ms. Slater, Mr. Benson is reviewing data right now. He's not available," his executive assistant, Halbert Burke, said, stepping in front of me.

Reviewing data?

I followed his gaze to the narrow gap in the glass door. But what floated through the small gap wasn't the voice of an analyst delivering a financial briefing—it was the soft, rhythmic beeping of a monitor.

Inside what was supposed to be one of the most secure offices in the world, the screen wasn't displaying figures for market trends. It was monitoring Rowena's heartbeat in real time.

A man who could strike down a 10-billion-dollar investment without so much as a flicker of emotion was now staring at a medical monitor, his face taut with panic. How ridiculous!

I still remembered how, during the early days of our marriage, I had once cut my finger on the edge of a folder while delivering documents to him. Blood had beaded on my fingertip.

Upon seeing it, Micah had thrown his pen across the room without hesitation.

"Sabrina, I hate any form of imperfection," he said coldly as he grabbed my wrist. "Clean it up. Don't let me see it again."

From that day on, I wore double-layered gloves even when pruning the thorns off roses.

"Ms. Slater…" Halbert's voice pulled me out of the past.

I let out a bitter laugh and said, "It's fine. When he's free, just have him sign this."

Halbert nodded, took the file from my hand, and disappeared into the office.

I thought I would have to wait at least a few minutes. Surely, he would finish watching Rowena's heartbeat on the monitor before giving me even a sliver of his attention.

But less than 30 seconds later, the door opened, and Halbert handed the file back to me. Micah's signature was already on the final page.

He hadn't even looked at it.

My fingers tightened around the divorce agreement as my chest tightened.

Since I was 15, I had known that I would marry Micah. He was the emotionless king of a business empire—cold, untouchable, and incapable of loving anyone. Yet I naively believed that if I became perfect enough, I could be the exception.

But it turned out that place was already reserved for someone else.

Now, with a few strokes of a pen, he had turned all my foolish hopes into a joke.

When I returned to the penthouse overlooking all of Ashbourne City, I asked the maid, Simona Reynolds, to take Micah's and my wedding portrait down.

"But Mrs. Benson… that painting's your favorite. You had one of the most celebrated artists in Edevia make it…"

She was right. I once saw that painting as proof that I had tamed the cold-blooded man—that I had trapped him in a photo frame and made him my husband.

But I had forgotten that it wasn't easy to change someone's nature. Micah hadn't changed; he had only been lying low for a while.

"Burn it, Simona. There's no need to leave it around lest it bother his new muse," I said lightly.

Sabrina's Point-of-View

There were still seven days left before the cooling-off period for the divorce ended. During that time, Micah hadn't returned to the penthouse even once.

That night, I wandered aimlessly and found myself in a quiet bookstore. To my surprise, I spotted Rowena inside, packing up her belongings.

She was still wearing that faded button-down shirt. The sleeves were rolled up to her elbows, revealing the cut on her arm that hadn't fully healed.

Suddenly, she looked up and saw me. Her eyes lit up as she hurried over.

"Thank you for helping me when I got injured that day. My boyfriend wants to treat you to dinner."

In my past life, Micah once said that Rowena was different from the women who chased his wealth—that her eyes were clear and untouched, like a blank sheet of paper.

I used to think that was laughable. But now, meeting her clear, sincere gaze, I couldn't find a single word to argue back.

"That's not necessary. I was just passing by," I said, brushing it off.

I pulled her gently into the cafe next door. As soon as we sat down, her eyes suddenly turned red.

"What's wrong?" I asked.

She looked down, tears slipping past her lashes. "I think I'm pregnant. But he's been avoiding me these past few days. Do you think he doesn't want the baby?"

So they had already slept together.

I should have expected it, but the truth still hit me hard. It felt like a cold hand had wrapped around my heart, squeezing it.

I had once foolishly hoped that Micah's obsession with her was just a phase and that he would grow tired and eventually return to me.

But it seemed I had just been deluding myself.

"Do you think he's seeing someone else?"

That single question sent a chill down my spine.

If she found out that Micah had a wife, given her kind nature, she would surely walk away. And knowing what kind of man he was, he would unleash his full wrath on me—and on my sister, Roberta Slater.

In my past life, when Roberta got into a car accident, Micah was the first to get the call. But he stopped the doctors from trying to save her.

I clenched my fists, my nails digging into my palms as I forced myself to stay calm.

"No. Don't overthink it," I told her softly.

After comforting her, I made up an excuse and stepped away to the restroom. Then, I pulled out my phone and called Denton.

"Move Roberta's flight to Valebrook up to tonight. Get her a ticket on the next flight out, and tell her to head to the airport—now."

The moment I hung up, I called Roberta. Her voice came through the speaker, warm and familiar—yet it made my body go rigid.

"Rina, did you and Micah have a fight?" she asked.

I wanted to tell her the truth—that in our past life, she died. As for me, Micah broke my legs, leaving me crippled for life, and had me locked in a psychiatric hospital.

He wouldn't allow anyone to threaten the life he built with Rowena.

The memories swirled violently in my mind. I bit down hard on my lip to keep myself from crying.

"Rina, no matter what you do, I'm always on your side. We're all we have," Roberta said.

Her voice was full of warmth, and somehow, that made me even more afraid.

I was terrified that Micah would find out she was leaving, then lose control like he did in the past and try to stop her.

Terrified that this call was being monitored.

Terrified that all my plans would fall apart.

And more than anything, I was terrified Roberta wouldn't get away fast enough and that he would catch her again.

"I love you, Berta. Wait for me. We'll be together soon."