Everyone in Eimport knew Ethan as a ruthless tycoon. Yet this same man humbly loved me.

When his enemies kidnapped me for revenge, he charged bare-handed into an inferno so fierce even firefighters hesitated.

I was unconscious but unscathed, while Ethan's right arm bore grotesque burns that would never fully heal.

Unbothered, he even declared to the world that these scars were proof of our love. I was touched and browsed positions for couples online while he worked late.

But everything shattered when I stumbled onto a video. The man's face was blurred, but the scar snaking up his wrist was unmistakable. The woman trapped in his gilded cage bore a striking resemblance to me.

My heart hammered, torn between terror and devastation. That very night, I decided to leave and not ever see him again.

I stared at the video until my eyes burned.

My nails dug crescents into my palms. The pain brought me back to reality, and I clicked 'Continue'.

The man on screen moved with rough urgency. He was relentless, causing the woman to cry out in pain.

Though his face stayed hidden, the jagged scar peeking beneath his cuff seared my vision.

Unable to bear it anymore, the woman pleaded for mercy.

Ethan Cooper leaned in and whispered in her ears, "Chiara, do you know how much I want to make you cry like this? You never listen to me. I wish I could break your legs so you'd never leave me."

The reality hit me hard. Tears streamed down my face uncontrollably.

Suddenly, memories flooded back. Whenever we were in bed, he'd always kiss me gently, whispering my name over and over.

It seemed like I was just his hidden woman—the scapegoat he used to protect his true love.

I couldn't help but laugh at myself. But as I laughed, my tears fell again.

I wiped them, telling myself not to cry for someone unworthy. But my heart betrayed me, tearing with pain so intense it felt like I might shatter into pieces.

I opened our chat window. The last message was from Ethan before he left for work.

[I left warm milk on the table. Drink it and get some rest. I'll be working late tonight. Not sure when I'll be back, but I'll hurry and finish up so I can be there to warm your bed.]

It was accompanied by a selfie of him making a heart gesture, both silly and full of affection.

In the past, I'd been so blinded, believing his love for me was unwavering. Now I realized it was all a lie. I was just the sacrifice for their love affair.

I collapsed, shaking with despair. My hand trembled as I made a call.

An impersonal voice came from the other end. "Confirming your Vanishing Package?"

I choked back a sob and said yes.

The agent continued, "This package helps you remove your identity, cut off your ties, and ensure you can live freely wherever you want. No one will be able to trace you."

My thumb hovered over Ethan's contact as I decided to test him one last time.

[Ethan, I miss you. Can you come home now?]

His reply blinked instantly. [Honey, I'm busy right now. Can you wait a little bit?]

He was lying to me just to stay with that woman a little longer. The truth was the last straw that broke the camel.

I confirmed my request and went on to sign contracts and pay bills.

The agent's keyboard clattered. "Ms. Melton, your request has been processed. Within three days, we will erase your identity and cover your tracks. After that, you'll board our ship and sail away to a new world."

Three days used to feel like it passed in the blink of an eye. Now it seemed so long that I almost wished I could just disappear right now.

Ethan returned sooner than I expected. He stumbled through the door, dust-streaked and disheveled, droplets clinging to the tips of his hair.

Outside, the sky was calm, not a single cloud threatening rain. I knew exactly where he'd been.

He pulled me into his arms as always, murmuring sweet nothings while dragging me beneath the sheets. His familiar citrus scent wrapped around me.

It hit me then that every late night at the office and every rushed shower afterward were just his lies to scrub away the traces of her.

Bile rose in my throat. I gagged, clapping a hand over my mouth.

Ethan panicked, summoning the family doctor.

My tear-swollen face and flushed cheeks must've looked alarming. The doctor diagnosed a mild fever.

Ethan's eyes reddened as if he were the one suffering. He buried his face in the crook of my neck, his lips brushing the IV needle taped to my hand.

I drifted in a haze all night, never fully asleep.

Sometime past midnight, the mattress shifted. Ethan slipped onto the balcony, his voice dropping low.

"Didn't I tell you to wait? Are you missing me so much? Okay, wait for me," he whispered.

He never returned to my side. The front door clicked shut, and my tears slid cold down my temple.

By dawn, the fever broke.

Ethan had laid out a lavish breakfast on the table. He rambled on and on, but I sipped my oatmeal without responding.

He left with a takeout box, kissing me goodbye like a lovesick bird.

The fever had scorched open a locked door in my mind. Years ago, to ease my anxiety, Ethan had installed a tracking app on his phone, linked to mine.

My fingers trembled as I opened it. I found out he wasn't going to work at all.

His car zigzagged for hours, vanishing into the remote outskirts. Then he walked miles until it was afternoon.

I couldn't help but admire his patience, and I was envious of how meticulously he protected the woman he cherished. All that meticulous care never belonged to me.

Then something felt off. Ethan's final location was my villa.

I had lived in this old house for ten years, and there was no place in the house I didn't know. Yet there were no sounds of him opening the door.

A strange, almost supernatural urge flooded over me, and I found myself in the cluttered storage room on the first floor.

I shoved aside boxes until the underground entrance appeared before my eyes. I never expected Ethan to keep his lover under our roof. Bitterness spread in my heart.

My phone buzzed as a message came from the agent.

[Ms. Melton, your accounts are closed. Proceeding with digital footprint erasure. Awaiting final confirmation.]

Before I could reply, keys jingled at the front door. Ethan was home early with a huge bouquet of red roses. It was his usual trick to make me happy.

But then, he covered my eyes with his hands and led me outside. Gifts spilled from the trunk of his car, wrapped and labeled from 0 to 21.

I was stunned, and my nose tingled with the onset of tears.

I had already decided to let go. Yet his affection moved me once again.

Ethan got down on one knee. The warm light from the setting sun shone on him, making him seem so noble and untouchable.

Ethan's posture was submissive. His voice trembled with desperate longing as he said, "Clara, marry me. I swear on my life. I'll never hurt or fail you. If I could, I'd give you my very breath."

His words dragged me back to the past when he was 17.

"Clara, I'll protect you with my life. Just promise you'll stay with me forever, okay?" he had said to me.

He'd kept that promise. He'd charged into a blazing inferno against all reasons and carried my unconscious body to safety.

I couldn't tell which of his words were sincere. But with two days left before my planned escape, I forced a brittle smile. "Yes."

Ethan's face lit like a child handed the stars. He crushed me against his chest, fingers digging into my back as if I might dissolve.

"We'll get the license now," he breathed, grabbing my hands.

I stiffened and fabricated a lie. "But I have something to do today. Let's get it another time."

His smile dimmed but didn't die.

Later that evening, before he could warm my milk, I took the initiative and prepared a glass for him, laced with extra ingredients.

Unsuspecting, he drank it with a sweet smile.

Even when he was unconscious, his arms vised around me in sleep and his legs tangled with mine like possessive vines.

Deep into the night, his regular breathing filled the air beside me. I crept downstairs, my heart thumping in my chest.

My flashlight beam shook as it landed on the cage.

Gold bars gleamed under the harsh lights. Inside it was Ethan's hidden, treasured woman.

The girl was peacefully sleeping, her face almost identical to mine, still holding onto traces of tears.

She woke up at the sound of me approaching and shot me a defiant look.

"Oh," she drawled. "You must be the woman Ethan keeps outside. How did you enjoy that toasty warmth?"

Her words struck me like a thunderclap, further confirming the thoughts I had.

"My name is Chiara Green," she chirped. "It's been seven years since I've seen sunlight. Ethan says UV rays harm porcelain skin."

She lifted a skeletal leg, and bile rose in my throat. Her once delicate calves were grotesquely twisted, the bones deformed as if broken by some violent force and left untreated.

But Chiara seemed unbothered, even smiling with bashfulness.

"A few days ago, he let me out," she giggled, burying her face in the white blanket. "But when I flirted with another man for an ice cream, he got jealous and broke my leg. Isn't he so possessive?"

My gaze caught on the bedsheet—crusty splotches blooming like fungal rot. Having long since shed any naivety, I instantly recognized what it was.

I retched, my fingers scrabbling at the cage bars.

"What are you doing?" Chiara shrieked suddenly, cradling the padlock like a lover's face. "Don't you dare ruin the home Ethan built for me!"

I flinched, and she murmured, "This is a golden lock, made with all of Ethan's love. What will happen if you break it? He'll be so angry."

My brows knitted together. "Don't you want to get out?"

She tilted her head. "Why should I? You're the shield against his enemies. If I went out and got hurt, his heart would break."

The truth detonated in my chest.