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.

Alex’s POV

I loved the wrong woman. And I paid for it.

I swallowed my pride and moved into the Weston estate because Denise couldn’t stand the thought of leaving her family. Let the whispers spread. Let the world think I was some trophy son-in-law with no backbone.

And because of one offhand comment she made about staying child-free, I went through with a vasectomy.

Yeah. I actually did that.

Whether the curse is real or just a damn coincidence, we’ll find out in three days.

At the wedding, the ballroom applauded as Denise stepped onto the crystal staircase, arm locked with Sean’s like they were the second coming of royalty.

The music swelled. Lights glittered off chandeliers. Cameras flashed. And step by step, they started their little descent into hell.

Then it happened.

Her smile twisted, and her body buckled. Her legs gave out, and she tumbled.

Denise didn’t just trip. She collapsed like someone yanked the strings clean out of her.

She slammed into the floor at the bottom, hard, screaming in pain, both hands clutched around her stomach.

Gasps rippled through the crowd. “Did she lose the baby?!”

Someone rushed over, lifted the hem of her dress, then staggered back like they’d seen a ghost.

“Blood… there’s so much blood!”

Panic hit like a bomb. People screaming, shoving. The wedding unraveled in seconds. Denise got rushed to the hospital, and the whole thing ended in chaos.

But the Blackwell curse?

That was just getting started.

I looked up at Sean, still frozen at the top of the stairs.

He had a chance to catch her. I saw it—hell, everyone saw it.

But when she reached for him, his instincts kicked in. And he let go. Worse, he shoved her off to save his skin.

Then I heard his voice behind me, all bark and panic.

“Alex, was this your doing?!”

I didn’t even turn and just kept walking. Let him scream.

...

Later, once Denise woke up, she sent someone to drag me into her hospital room.

She didn’t waste time.

“Alex,” she snapped, “you think making me lose my baby will convince me your family curse is real? That I’ll suddenly believe you?”

I stared at her, voice flat. “What the hell are you talking about?”

Sean stood beside her, face burning red, fists clenched like he was holding back from punching a wall.

“Don’t play dumb,” he snapped. “I had someone look into it. One of the guests saw you! You drugged her water. That’s why she couldn’t feel her legs. You planned it so she’d fall and lose the baby. She almost died!”

He shook, his voice cracked, and his eyes were rimmed red as if he hadn’t slept in days.

“It’s my fault, too. I froze. I didn’t catch her…”

Then he turned to Denise, his voice dropping like a kicked dog. “Denise, I’m sorry. I let you down.”

She gave his hand a gentle squeeze, soft like he was a kid who scraped his knee.

“Sean, I don’t blame you. It happened too fast.”

Then her eyes cut to me, and every ounce of warmth she had for him vanished.

“Alex,” she said cold as ice, “you killed my child. Life for a life. That’s how it should be. But don’t worry, I won’t kill you. I’m cutting off the meds your father depends on. Let’s see if watching him rot teaches you a lesson.”

My chest locked up. Breath caught somewhere between a shout and a choke.

“No! Denise, don’t. If you’re pissed, come at me. Not him. He’s in that coma because he threw himself in front of you. You do this, and he might never wake up.”

She stared at me coldly.

“Don’t try to guilt-trip me, Alex. You ruined my wedding and killed my baby.”

I pulled a folder from my bag. Inside were freshly printed divorce papers. I unfolded them and laid them out on the bedside table.

“It’s the curse. I’ve told you—if you divorce me, this ends.”

Denise let out a sharp, bitter laugh. Then she ripped the papers to shreds, eyes locked on mine.

“Alex, do you think I’m stupid enough to fall for that again? Still clinging to your family’s spooky bedtime story? You want a divorce? Not happening.”

She turned to her staff, her voice as cold as the tile floor. “Take him back to the mansion. Lock him up. And this time, don’t let him out without my say-so.”

...

They dragged me back.

Same room. Same cold concrete walls.

I slammed my fists against the door until the skin split.

“Open up! I need to see Denise!”

“I need to get to my dad. Tell me what it takes—money, power, I don’t care. Just open the damn door!”

One of the guards peeked in, face like stone. “Mr. Blackwell, don’t make this harder than it should be.”

So I screamed for three days straight. My voice cracked. My hands turned raw and bloody.

Hope bled out slowly, drop by drop.

Then, finally, the door creaked open. Denise stood there like nothing had happened.

“It’s Grandfather’s 80th,” she said. “You’re coming. This time, keep it together. No more drama.”

Alex’s POV

“Get him cleaned up. We leave in half an hour.”

The moment I received my phone back, I turned it on.

The screen lit up, revealing dozens of missed calls from the hospital.

My thumb trembled as I hit redial.

“Mr. Blackwell,” the nurse’s voice came through, panicked. “Why are you only just answering? Your father passed away last night…”

Everything after that was a blur.

It felt like I was walking underwater. People were speaking, hands were on my shoulders, and someone was handing me clothes.

None of it registered with me.

Next thing I knew, I was standing outside.

And there she was.

Denise, sitting in the car I bought for her. Arms around Sean like nothing had happened. Her window rolled down just long enough for her to throw a look at me, cold, detached.

“This car’s full,” she said, like I wasn't her husband. “You can take another one.”

She didn’t wait for a response and waved at the driver.

And they drove off.

I stood there, staring down at my phone. The hospital had just sent me my father’s death certificate.

And whatever grief I had left in me got buried by something darker.

Something solid.

Hatred.

Then it happened.

An eighteen-wheeler came screaming around the corner—tires shrieking, engine howling—completely out of control.