There has always been a rumor about the Blackwell men.

They said we were cursed. People used to whisper that any woman who crossed one of us either ended up dead or was so wrecked she might as well have been.

The elite crowd in the capital?

They treat us like we’re radioactive and won’t even stand too close at parties. Like bad luck can rub off on designer shoes.

But Denise Weston? She didn’t give a damn.

She was my childhood sweetheart.

Denise knew me before the money, before the name meant anything. She ignored her family’s rants, slipped into a white dress, and asked me the question instead of waiting for me to ask it.

“Alex, I’m not afraid of any curse. Because I’d never betray you.”

Hell, I was moved. I believed her.

Of course, I married her,

Five years go by. We’re steady. Then her ex appears back from whatever rock overseas he’d been hiding under.

And just like that, it all starts coming apart at the seams. Every fight, every cold shoulder, every damn silence—it all had his name on it.

And then came the twist. After years of being dead set on staying child-free, she turns up pregnant.

Not mine.

His.

So I did the only thing that made sense.

I filed the divorce papers. I wanted to give her a chance to walk away clean before the curse kicked in.

She shredded them right in my face. “Alex, do you seriously think I believe that ridiculous curse? Go ahead, try to kill me!”

People started taking bets. Some thought Denise had seven days left. Others figured I’d tuck my pride between my legs, raise another man’s kid, and pretend I didn’t know better.

I didn’t argue. Didn’t defend myself.

Just turned and walked away.

Because we had history. Because part of me still wanted to give her a shot at surviving this.

But Denise made her choice. She chose not to take it.

——

Alex’s POV

Later that day, I stepped out of the Weston estate, and one of her people flagged me down.

She was standing there like she owned the place.

Arms crossed, chin up, Denise haughtily asked, “Alex, I’m pregnant. Where do you think you’re going without taking care of me?”

“Sean says he’s just a rough man and not detail-oriented. He says you should handle it.”

I stared her down, my voice flat and cold. “Aren’t you worried I might hurt the baby you’re carrying?”

She hurled the wine glass straight at my face when the words left my mouth. It shattered on impact—sharp sting, warm blood, cold wine.

“Alex, did you just threaten me?” she hissed. “You’d better watch yourself.”

With her eyebrow raised, Denise taunted me. “Don’t forget, your father is still in the hospital, in a coma. He is only alive because my family continues to pay for those medications.”

My fists clenched, hard enough to shake. Blood, stained with red wine, streamed down my face.

She forgot everything.

My father’s in that bed because he took a hit meant for her. He protected her. Now he’s brain-dead and doesn’t even blink on his own.

Then Sean Martin walked in.

Smug bastard. He walked like he owned the floor, tossing a towel at me like I needed help.

“Alex, you’ve been married for years, and still no kid? Could it be that you’re just not capable?”

The bastard grinned like it was funny. Like he was clever.

Then he scoffed. “I’m a generous guy. I don’t mind if Denise and I give the baby your last name.”

As he said that, he reached out to hand me the towel. I was just about to refuse when

Sean slipped on the broken glass and hit the floor hard. His palms were sliced open, and gasps flew from the crowd as if they were waiting for something to pop off.

Denise bolted over, eyes wild. Then her hand cracked across my face.

Furious, she yelled, “Alex, how dare you lay a hand on Sean right before me? Do you think I won’t do anything to you?”

Then, she ordered, “Kneel. Right now. Apologize, or I’ll pull the plug on your father’s oxygen.”

I tasted blood again. Different kind this time.

I gave her a slow, bitter smile. “Denise, fine, I’ll kneel. But are you absolutely sure Sean can handle what comes next?”

That shook him. I saw it. Sean's bravado cracked for half a second.

“Denise, baby, forget it. Not here. Too many people are watching.”

She looked at him like he was the second coming.

With eyes soft and a sweet voice, she said, “You’re too kind, Sean. He doesn’t deserve it.”

Then the private doctor rushed in with a med kit in hand.

Denise helped Sean up and followed the doctor into a side room.

As she passed me, she stopped.

She turned her head just enough to make sure I’d hear her.

“Someone take Alex to the confinement room. He doesn’t come out until I say so.”

I met her eyes, steady and unblinking.

My voice came out low and flat. “Denise. Don’t do something you’ll wish you hadn’t.”

She scoffed and tossed her hair over her shoulder. “Let me guess, you’re going to start in with that Blackwell curse again? Save it, Alex. I’m not falling for your crap.”

She didn’t look back.

And all I could do was let out a breath and watch her walk away.

Alex’s POV

If Denise had agreed to the divorce, maybe the curse wouldn’t have hit her.

Three days later, she finally let me out.

I hadn’t had a drop of water the whole time. My throat felt like sandpaper, and I barely lifted my head when she walked in.

She didn’t say a word and just stepped in and slammed her foot into my gut like she’d been dying to do it.

“Alex, I never thought you could be this cruel. What the hell did I even do?”

I didn’t answer, not because I didn’t want to, but because I didn’t have the strength.

Two of her men came in, grabbed me by the arms, and dragged me out to the garden. My knees tore across the cobblestones the whole way. They were in agony, and I could do nothing to staunch the flow of blood or the spreading of the bruises.

Denise looked down at me like I was something she’d scraped off her shoe.

“You knew Sean’s allergic to roses, and you still planted this whole damn garden? Were you trying to kill him?”

I tried to speak. Nothing came out.

She didn’t remember.

She was the one who loved roses.

I built this place 540 days ago. Every thorn and every root was dug out with my own hands. Thought it’d mean something.

I gave a dry, humorless laugh. “Sure. I’ll rip them out.”

I pushed myself off the ground, legs trembling, and pulled up the roses individually. No gloves. Just my bare hands. The thorns cut deep, shredding my palms until they were raw and slick with blood.

Crimson ran down my wrists, soaked into the dirt.

I saw her flinch, just for a second. Her eyelids twitched.

But she didn’t say a word.

“Don’t think playing the victim will make me go soft,” Denise said, cold as ice. “It only makes me hate you more.”

She clenched her fists and turned away.

I didn’t stop until the last rose was gone. By then, I dropped right where I stood, and my body gave out.

...

The next morning, I woke up in bed.

Someone had cleaned me up. My hands and face were bandaged. Guess they didn’t want me bleeding out just yet.

I got up. Stiff all over, but I managed to stand.

I went looking for Denise.

Just as I reached the study, I heard her inside. Her voice was sharp and frantic, like a fire had started, and she was trying to stomp it out with her bare feet.

"How can they simply cancel contracts we’ve already signed? Don’t they realize I invested every last cent of my liquid funds into these deals?”

Denise’s voice cracked. “Why is everything going to hell at once?”

Then a pause.

“Start with the terminated projects. I’ll take care of the rest.”

The curse was already working.

I stepped in through the door. She looked up like I was a ghost.

“Alex, what are you doing out of bed? If you’re up, go make some soup.”

Then, like it was an afterthought, “Add more salt. Sean wants some. He likes it heavy. Go do it now!”

I was born into money. Staff, chefs, housekeepers—I never had to do a damn thing for myself. But once said she wanted something simple—a place that smelled like soup, not ink and cologne.

So I learned. Took off the suit. Burned my hands. Figured it out for her.

Now? My hands were wrapped up like a damn mummy. Couldn’t even touch water without splitting the skin open again.

I gave a dry laugh. “Sure. Just don’t flinch if I poison it.”

Her eyes narrowed, and her voice went cold. “Looks like three days in a cell wasn’t enough. Want another round?”

I didn’t blink. I just walked over and sat across from her, legs crossed, calm as ever.

“Denise, sign the divorce papers before the situation gets ugly. You’re pregnant with another man’s kid. Let’s end this clean.”

She stared like I’d spit in her face.

“You sabotaged my projects, didn’t you? Thought you’d get back at me that way?”

I laughed for real that time. “My dear wife, you threw me in a concrete box for three days. No water. No contact. You think I have the guts to pull off something like that from inside a damn cell?”

She scoffed coldly. “You better not have!”

Then Denise continued, “Forget the divorce. There’s no way you’re walking away now. If you hadn’t lied and tricked me back then, how could I have mistaken you for Sean? Because of that, I missed five years with him and brought him so much pain.”

I frowned. “What the hell did I lie about?”

She let out a scoff.

Alex’s POV

“You’re still pretending?” Denise hissed. “I already knew the truth ten years ago. You were the one who pushed me off that cliff…”

Before she could finish spinning whatever fantasy she’d built in her head, Sean barged through the door like the clown he was.

“Denise, it’s time for your prenatal checkup. The car’s already waiting outside.”

I stood up, jaw tight, ready to ask her what the hell she meant, but she didn’t even glance my way.

Denise shoved past me and walked straight into his arms like she couldn’t get away fast enough.

I stood there frozen. Not shocked, but just empty.

After a few seconds, I drove to the hospital to visit my father.

...

My father’s room was silent. The machines continued to do all the breathing for him. I sat beside him, took his cold and motionless hand, and held it like he could still feel it.

“Dad, you once told me that Mom died in a car accident while on vacation with her lover because she betrayed you, and that you developed a severe psychological disorder because of it.”

A cold scoff escaped my lips.

“You told me betrayal sticks and it haunts a man for the rest of his life. That’s why you never wanted me to get married. Never wanted me to believe in loyalty or forever.”

I swallowed hard. My throat still burned from those three days in confinement.

“I get it now. I was stupid for thinking I could break the pattern. Be better. But I’m done punishing myself for someone else’s choices. I’ll wait. However long it takes, I’ll be here when you wake up.”

The nurse came in right after visiting hours ended, polite but firm.

I nodded and left quietly.

While walking in the hall, I didn’t expect to bump into her in the damn lobby.

Denise spotted me before I could slip past. Her eyes narrowed like I was something rotting in the corner of her house.

“What are you doing here? Following me?”

I didn’t answer and just turned to leave.

But of course, she couldn’t just let it go.

She stormed up and grabbed my arm. “Alex, I’m talking to you. Are you deaf or something?”

I yanked my arm back, jaw tight. “If you’re sick, get checked. Don’t go around biting people like some damn stray.”

Then I added, sharper, “Why the hell would I follow you? Did you forget my father’s in this hospital too? I’ve been here every damn day.”

First time I’d ever raised my voice at her.

Denise froze. Blinked like she didn’t recognize me. For a split second, I saw fear. Just a flash, but it was there.

“Why are you yelling at me like this…?”

Before I could answer, Sean appeared out of nowhere, grinning like he was about to hand out party favors. He shoved some ultrasound report between us like it meant anything.

“Denise, the doctor says our baby’s healthy. Look! Eyes, mouth… our baby looks just like you. So beautiful.”

And just like that, she lit up. All wide eyes and wonder like nothing else in the world mattered.

“Of course, our baby’s beautiful.”

Sean beamed. Smoothed her hair like he thought he was in some picture-perfect ad.

Then he looked at me and smirked.

“How about this? Let Alex name the baby. Make him feel part of the family.”

A year ago, I’d have broken his jaw without blinking.

Now? I didn’t move. Didn’t speak.

I just turned and walked away. Cold. Silent. Done.

“Alex!” Sean called after me, smug as hell. “Tomorrow’s our wedding. Why don’t you be the emcee?”

I paused mid-step, turned back, and stared at Denise with a mocking smile.

“You and your pretty boy are throwing a wedding? And you want me, your husband, to officiate? You two sure know how to throw a circus.”

Her face twisted, trying to hold on to whatever pride she had left.

“Alex, do you have to be so cruel?”

Denise's face darkened, but a flicker of guilt flashed in her eyes.

“You already had me. I’m just giving Sean the wedding I once promised him. Why are you being so petty?”

I opened my mouth, ready to fire back, but she got there first.

“You’re coming to the wedding tomorrow. Don’t forget that your father still needs the imported medication that my family provides.”

My fists clenched on instinct. I felt blood soak through the bandages on my palms again.

She knew exactly where to hit.

...

The next day, the wedding was a damn circus. Bigger, flashier, louder than the one Denise and I had five years ago. Fake smiles, fake blessings, enough champagne to sink a battleship.

I walked in, and the whole room went still. Like I’d walked into the wrong movie.

Eyes followed. Whispers trailed.

“So it’s true that Alexander Blackwell showed up to his wife’s wedding.”

“Must be nice being the live-in loser. Guess he really can’t get it up.”

“That Blackwell curse? Please. Just some scare tactic to keep women in line.”

I heard every word. I didn't flinch or say a thing.

I simply grabbed a glass of wine and savored the first sip.

Let them run their mouths. They had no idea what was coming.