Nathaniel had not even fully registered the word divorce when the door swung open with enough force to hit the wall.

Victoria rushed inside.

The cruel satisfaction I had seen on her face earlier—when she believed I was unconscious—was nowhere to be found. In its place was a picture of devastation so polished it might have fooled anyone who hadn’t heard her true voice. Her cheeks were blotchy from crying, and mascara had run down her face in dramatic black streaks.

It was a flawless act.

“Audrey!” she cried as she hurried to my bedside. “Oh God, Audrey, please—please listen to me!”

Before I could move away, she grabbed my hand. Her palm was clammy, her grip desperate.

“I never meant for this to happen,” she sobbed, her voice trembling at all the right moments. “You have to believe me. I love you like a sister. I would never intentionally hurt you or your baby. It was only soup. Maybe you had an allergic reaction, or maybe the herbs were bad—I don’t know. I’m so sorry.”

I lowered my gaze to the woman clutching me.

Just hours earlier, she had been ordering my husband to impregnate her while I lay motionless in the same room.

Now she wanted sympathy.

“Let go of me,” I said, every word tight with barely restrained anger.

“Audrey, please,” she begged, acting as though she hadn’t heard me. Then she slid down from the edge of the bed and dropped to her knees on the floor. Pressing her palms together as if in prayer, she bowed her head and continued pleading. “I’ll do anything. I’ll pay every hospital bill. I’ll go to church every day. Just please, tell David to stop. Don’t let them put me in jail. I won’t survive there.”

I yanked my hand away.

“You should have thought about prison before you poisoned me.”

My voice came out cold and sharp.

“You killed my son, Victoria. There is nothing you can say that will undo that. You’re going to prison, and I hope you spend the rest of your life there.”

“Audrey, enough.”

Nathaniel stepped forward so abruptly that both of us looked up.

I turned toward him, and what struck me most was not his anger.

It was the complete absence of concern for me.

He wasn’t looking at me like a husband worried about his grieving wife.

He was looking at Victoria like a man terrified of losing something precious.

“Look at her,” Nathaniel said, gesturing toward Victoria, who was still crying on the hospital floor. “She’s on her knees begging you. She’s humiliated herself in front of you. What more do you want?”

A laugh escaped me, but it sounded broken even to my own ears.

“What more do I want?”

I stared at him.

“She took a life, Nathaniel. Our child. The child we created together.”

“It was an accident!”

His voice exploded through the room, and the last of his patience vanished.

“Why are you being so vindictive?” he demanded. “She’s family. She’s been part of my life since we were five years old. I am not going to stand by and let you ruin her over a mistake.”

The words settled heavily between us.

I went still.

“So this is your choice.”

My voice had gone quiet, almost eerily calm.

“You’re choosing her.”

This time, I wasn’t asking.

Nathaniel clenched his jaw.

“No,” he said sharply. “I’m choosing common sense.”

He exhaled as if I were exhausting him.

“You’re emotional, Audrey. You’re grieving, and you’re not thinking clearly. First you ask for a divorce, then you file a criminal case against my best friend. This is absurd.”

He bent down, helped Victoria to her feet, and wrapped an arm around her shoulders.

The gesture felt intimate.

Protective.

Instinctive.

When he looked at me again, his expression had gone completely cold.

“I’m taking Victoria home,” he said. “She shouldn’t stay here in this condition, and frankly, neither should you. We’ll talk again once you’ve calmed down and stopped this nonsense.”

My fingers tightened around the bedsheet.

“If you walk out that door with her,” I said quietly, “don’t bother coming back.”

Nathaniel did not hesitate.

Not even for a heartbeat.

“Then don’t wait for me.”

And just like that, he turned away.

He guided the woman who had murdered our child out of the room as though she were the injured party, leaving his wife alone behind him.

When the door shut, silence returned.

But this silence felt different.

Heavier.

It pressed down on my chest until breathing felt difficult.

I stared at the closed door as tears finally spilled over.

This time, I wasn’t crying only for my baby.

I was crying for the five years I had wasted believing in something that had never existed.

My thoughts drifted backward, pulled toward memories I suddenly saw with brutal clarity.

I remembered our wedding.

It had been extravagant, the kind of ceremony people talked about for months—not because of romance, but because it symbolized the union of two powerful families.

I remembered walking down the aisle toward Nathaniel.

He had looked striking in his tuxedo.

Elegant. Refined. Every inch the perfect groom.

But now that memory felt wrong.

He hadn’t smiled.

Not truly.

At the time, I had convinced myself it was nerves. Nathaniel had always been reserved, always controlled, and I assumed his lack of expression meant nothing.

Then I remembered something else.

The reception.

The whispers.

“Where’s Victoria?”

“Why isn’t she here?”

At the time, everyone gave the same explanation.

She was in Paris.

Studying art.

That was the story.

Now, the truth was obvious.

She hadn’t left to study.

She had left because she couldn’t bear watching Nathaniel marry another woman.

The realization settled over me with sickening clarity.

I had never been the woman he wanted.

I had only ever been the woman he needed.

Nathaniel and Victoria had grown up together. Everyone knew them as the golden pair—the couple people assumed would eventually marry.

But my family owned the logistics empire Nathaniel’s grandfather desperately needed.

So Victoria was sent away.

And I was brought in.

I had been a substitute.

A convenient solution.

God, I had been so naive.

I truly believed I could make him love me.

I thought love could be earned through devotion, patience, and sacrifice. I believed that if I became the perfect wife, hosted the perfect dinners, supported him in every way, and eventually gave him a son, he would choose me.

I thought five years of marriage had to mean something.

It meant nothing.

Every dinner.

Every vacation.

Every whispered I love you.

All of it had been an act.

He had only been waiting for the right time.

Waiting for the merger to be completed.

Waiting for the final documents to be signed.

Waiting until he no longer needed me.

Then he would throw me away and return to her.

Today, they had simply decided not to wait any longer.

A fresh wave of nausea rolled through me.

I wasn’t just mourning.

I felt humiliated.

I had not been a wife.

I had been a placeholder.

An obstacle standing between two people and the life they believed they deserved.

And they had tried to remove me permanently.

The shrill vibration of my phone against the bedside table snapped me out of my spiraling thoughts.

I wiped my face with the back of my hand, took a shaky breath, and reached for the phone without checking the caller ID.

“David?” I asked, my voice rough. “Did you file it?”

“Ms. Audrey?”

I frowned immediately.

That wasn’t David.

“Sarah?”

I pushed myself upright.

“Why are you calling from David’s phone? Where is he?”

Sarah sounded panicked.

“I… I didn’t know who else to call.”

Behind her, I could hear chaos—phones ringing nonstop, people shouting, footsteps rushing across a floor.

Something was terribly wrong.

My pulse spiked.

“What happened?” I asked, gripping the phone harder. “Is David okay?”

“The police are here,” Sarah whispered, and her voice broke.

My stomach dropped.

“The police?”

My hand tightened.

“What are you talking about?”

“They raided the office.”

I felt cold all over.

“What?”

“They arrested him, Ms. Audrey,” Sarah said, barely holding herself together. “They took Mr. David away in handcuffs about five minutes ago.”

My heart stopped.

“Why?”

Sarah sucked in a shaky breath.

“They said… they said he committed something illegal.”

I gripped the phone so tightly my knuckles turned white. Still wearing my hospital gown, I paced the small room despite the cramps twisting through my abdomen every few steps. Pain lanced through me whenever I moved, but I barely registered it.

“What do you mean it’s a done deal?” I demanded, my voice trembling with anger. “David didn’t embezzle anything. The evidence is fake.”

On the other end of the line, our family attorney, Mr. Henderson, sighed heavily.

“The files were recovered from David’s encrypted personal drive, Audrey,” he said wearily. “Five million dollars was transferred to an account in the Cayman Islands. The metadata matches his credentials. The district attorney isn’t interested in hearing claims of a setup. They’re fast-tracking the case. He’s looking at fifteen years, minimum.”

My breath caught.

“Fifteen years?”

The room swayed around me.

Henderson lowered his voice. “Someone powerful wants your brother buried. I’ve called every contact I have, but no one will help. The orders are coming from the top. I can’t stop this.”

The call ended, but I remained frozen, the phone still pressed to my ear.

I didn’t need anyone to tell me who those “powerful people” were.

Nathaniel’s grandfather practically owned the city’s legal system. And Nathaniel—Nathaniel was the one pulling the strings.

He had cornered me perfectly.

If I continued pursuing charges against Victoria for poisoning me and killing my child, David would spend the next fifteen years in prison for a crime he didn’t commit.

Before I could think, my hand moved.

I ripped the IV from my arm.

Blood welled from the puncture site and dripped onto the floor, but I barely felt the sting.

By the time I reached the house, night had fallen.

The mansion was unnervingly quiet.

I found Nathaniel in his study.

He sat behind his mahogany desk, a glass of amber liquor in one hand, an open file in front of him. He didn’t look surprised to see me. In fact, he barely reacted.

“You should still be in the hospital,” he said calmly. “Discharging yourself against medical advice was reckless.”

“Let him go.”

My voice came out rough, but steady.

Nathaniel took a slow sip of his drink.

“I assume you mean your brother,” he said. “Terrible situation. Embezzlement leaves quite a stain on a reputation.”

“Drop the act.”

I slammed both palms onto his desk.

“You planted the evidence. You had someone hack his drive and frame him. You’re using him as leverage.”

Only then did Nathaniel look up.

There was no warmth in his eyes.

Only cold calculation.

“And you,” he said quietly, “are threatening the woman I love.”

The words hit like a slap.

“You’re trying to ruin her with this ridiculous lawsuit and drag my family through the mud.”

“She murdered our son.”

My voice cracked.

Nathaniel’s expression hardened.

“And you’re trying to destroy my future.”

He stood, towering over me.

“Since you want to handle this legally, let’s discuss terms.”

He slid a folder across the desk.

I looked down.

“What is this?”

“A settlement.”

He folded his arms.

“Inside is a withdrawal of charges and a binding non-disclosure agreement. You will drop the lawsuit against Victoria, publicly state that this was all a misunderstanding caused by grief, and agree never to pursue legal action against her regarding the miscarriage.”

I stared at the papers.

They wanted me to erase everything.

To protect my child’s killer.

To surrender justice.

My throat tightened.

“And if I refuse?”

Nathaniel sat back down, maddeningly calm.

“Then David goes to prison.”

He shrugged.

“He’s soft, Audrey. Maximum security will break him. He won’t last long.”

His gaze sharpened.

“Do you really want his blood on your hands too?”

Nausea surged through me.

I hated him.

The hatred felt violent enough to consume me.

My eyes flicked to the silver letter opener on his desk. For one wild second, I imagined driving it straight into his chest.

But I couldn’t.

I couldn’t risk David.

He was the only family I had left.

“Fine.”

The word barely sounded human.

Three hours later, I sat in David’s living room with a cup of black coffee cooling between my hands.

David sat across from me, guilt written all over his face.

“I’m sorry,” he said hoarsely. “I know what happened. The charges vanished ten minutes after you left the hospital.”

His jaw tightened.

“He traded your justice for my freedom, didn’t he?”

I stared into my coffee.

“It doesn’t matter.”

“It does matter.”

David slammed his cup down.

“He framed me to protect that bitch. We can’t let him get away with this. We can refile. We can fight back—”

“We can’t.”

I cut him off.

“I signed an NDA. If I speak about the poisoning or sue Victoria again, the evidence against you comes back. He has us trapped.”

David sank into the sofa.

“So that’s it?” he asked bitterly. “He wins? After everything he’s done to you?”

“No.”

I set my coffee down and finally looked at him.

Something inside me had changed.

The tears were gone.

So was the grief.

What remained was something colder.

Stronger.

Resolve.

David studied me carefully.

“What are you going to do?”

“First, I want the divorce papers prepared immediately.”

His brows rose.

“I’m leaving that marriage. I don’t want alimony, property, or a single cent from him. I want a clean break.”

David nodded.

“I can have them ready tomorrow morning.”

He hesitated.

“But Audrey… how are you going to fight him? The Jones family is untouchable.”

A faint smile touched my lips, though there was no warmth in it.

“I’m going to ruin him.”

The words came out soft and deliberate.

“I’ll dismantle him piece by piece. I’ll take his company, destroy his reputation, and make him watch everything he loves burn.”

David stared at me in silence.

When he finally went to shower, I waited until the bathroom door closed before reaching for my phone.

My fingers trembled as I scrolled through my contacts.

Down.

Further down.

Until I reached a number I hadn’t called in six years.

A number I once swore never to use.

Jackson.

I called him Uncle Jackson, though he wasn’t really my uncle. He was a distant relative—the family’s black sheep. He operated in shadows, arranged deals that never existed on paper, and had a reputation for making impossible things happen.

My father had forbidden me from contacting him.

The phone rang twice.

Then he answered.

“Well, well.”

His voice was gravelly with amusement.

“Little Audrey. This is unexpected. Run out of charity galas to attend?”

“I need something from you.”

I skipped pleasantries.

A low chuckle came through the line.

“You know I don’t do favors, sweetheart. I do business.”

“I know.”

I took a slow breath.

“Do you remember the offer you made before I married Nathaniel?”

Silence.

Then—

“The marriage proposal?”

“Yes.”

I steadied myself.

“You said you had someone in mind. Someone whose empire could merge with our logistics business globally.”

Jackson laughed.

“I remember. You rejected it. Said you were marrying for love.”

His tone turned mocking.

“So tell me—how did love work out?”

“It didn’t.”

My voice went cold.

“And I’m ready to accept.”

The amusement disappeared.

“If you do this, there’s no turning back.”

“Good.”

I didn’t hesitate.

“That’s exactly what I want.”

A pause.

Then he spoke.

“I can have the jet ready in five days.”

I closed my eyes.

“Fine.”

Jackson’s voice lowered, satisfaction threading through every word.

“Then start preparing yourself.”

He paused.

“You’re about to marry your ex-husband’s most dangerous rival.”

Nathaniel lifted his wineglass and smiled as though he were hosting the perfect family dinner.

“This,” he declared, sweeping his gaze across the table, “is what a real family looks like—choosing forgiveness, staying united, and moving forward.”

Then he turned to me, wearing that polished, devastating smile he used so well in public. It was flawless, charming, and completely empty.

“I’m glad we’ve finally put all that unpleasantness behind us, Audrey,” he said. His attention shifted to my brother. “David, you have to admit, this wine is exceptional.”

“Excellent,” David replied in an even tone before taking a measured sip. Judging by the look in his eyes, he probably wished it were poison.

Nathaniel either didn’t notice or didn’t care. He turned toward Victoria, and his expression softened in a way I hadn’t seen directed at me in years.

“And Victoria,” he said warmly, “it’s nice to see you smiling again.”

Victoria let out a cheerful laugh that made my skin crawl.

“I’m just so happy we’re all getting along,” she said brightly. She reached across the table and placed her hand over mine. Her touch was warm and familiar, and somehow that made it worse. “Thank you for forgiving me, Audrey. I know this whole situation has been difficult, but I really hope we can become closer after this.”

She squeezed my hand.

“Like sisters.”

Every instinct in my body screamed at me to pull away.

I didn’t.

Instead, I forced a smile so tight it felt painful.

“Of course, Victoria,” I said in a syrupy voice. “Like sisters.”

Nathaniel looked pleased with himself as he cut into his duck.

“I told you she’d come around,” he said, sounding smug. “Audrey has always been practical. She knows how to see the bigger picture.”

I picked up my fork and took a small bite before speaking.

“Since you mentioned the bigger picture,” I said lightly, “I’ve been thinking about something your grandfather said.”

Nathaniel paused, knife suspended over his plate.

“What part?”

“The part about an heir.”

I said it casually, as if discussing weather.

“He seemed deeply disappointed about the… accident. He’s been calling almost every day, asking when we plan to try again. He keeps saying the Jones family needs someone to carry the legacy.”

Victoria went rigid.

The subtle shift in her posture didn’t escape me. Her eyes flicked toward Nathaniel, alarm flashing across her face.

Nathaniel cleared his throat.

“Well, Grandfather can be impatient,” he said carefully. “But you’re still recovering, sweetheart. The doctor said—”

“The doctor said I’m physically fine.”

The lie came easily.

I tilted my head and smiled.

“And it made me think about something else. Our fifth wedding anniversary is in five days, isn’t it?”

I leaned forward and rested my chin on my hand, staring at him with deliberate softness.

“What if we celebrate properly? Maybe a honeymoon. Somewhere beautiful. The Maldives, perhaps.”

I let the suggestion hang for a beat.

“We could try again,” I said gently. “For the baby.”

Nathaniel blinked.

His gaze flicked to Victoria, then back to me.

I could practically hear the calculations in his head.

He didn’t want me.

He wanted her.

But he still needed his grandfather’s approval, and more importantly, he needed me cooperative until the merger was finalized.

“That sounds…” He forced a smile. “Wonderful.”

He reached for his wineglass.

“A honeymoon. Just the two of us?”

“Just us,” I said.

“A fresh start.”

Victoria’s fingers tightened around her glass.

“But,” Nathaniel added quickly, dabbing his mouth with a napkin, “before we disappear on some romantic getaway, we still need to finalize the merger.”

There it was.

Business.

Always business.

“The transfer papers for your father’s logistics company still need to be completed,” he continued. “The board has been anxious. You know how these things are.”

I waved my hand as if dismissing something trivial.

“Oh, the merger.”

I bent slightly and reached beneath the table.

“I actually brought the papers.”

From under the table, I pulled out a thick manila envelope and placed it beside the roast duck.

Nathaniel’s eyes sharpened instantly.

There it was.

That hungry look.

The expression of a predator spotting easy prey.

He reached for the envelope, but I placed my hand over it first.

“Not so fast,” I said with playful disapproval. “Opening paperwork during dinner is terribly rude.”

Nathaniel laughed, though the sound came out strained with anticipation.

“Right. Of course.”

He tried to sound casual.

“We can review it afterward.”

“Actually,” I said, lifting my hand from the envelope, “there’s nothing to review.”

I slid it toward him.

“I already signed everything.”

Nathaniel froze.

“You did?”

I nodded.

“This afternoon. I already sent digital copies to legal. Those are just the original signed documents for your files.”

He snatched the envelope and opened it immediately.

His fingers moved quickly as he flipped through the pages until he found the signature page.

The moment he saw my name, I watched tension leave his body.

He exhaled like a man who had been holding his breath for weeks.

Then he looked at me.

For the first time in a very long while, his happiness seemed genuine.

Not because he loved me.

Because he believed he had won.

He thought he had taken everything.

My child.

My dignity.

My inheritance.

“You’re incredible, Audrey,” he said, closing the folder. “Truly. This changes everything.”

“It certainly does,” David murmured into his wineglass.

Nathaniel didn’t catch the meaning.

I lifted my own glass.

“Well then,” I said smoothly, “shall we toast? To the merger… and to our anniversary?”

Nathaniel raised his glass without hesitation.

“To us.”

Our glasses touched.

Victoria joined in, her smile bright and triumphant.

She looked almost radiant.

She thought she had won too.

She probably imagined herself replacing me soon enough, boarding that honeymoon flight in my place.

Later that night, silence settled over the house.

Nathaniel was in the shower, humming under the running water.

He was in excellent spirits.

I sat at my vanity, removing my earrings one by one and placing them carefully on the marble surface.

He had no idea.

He didn’t know the signature on those documents meant nothing.

He didn’t know that three hours before dinner, David and I had completed an entirely different transfer.

My father’s company had never been a single operating entity.

It was a holding company.

And as majority shareholder, I had the legal authority to restructure every asset under it.

I hadn’t handed Nathaniel the company.

I had handed him the shell.

The brand.

The logo.

The office leases.

That was all.

The real assets—the trucks, warehouses, shipping routes, contracts, and operating capital—had already been moved into a separate trust.

A trust controlled solely by David.

A structure Nathaniel had no access to and no authority over.

Tomorrow morning, when his legal team filed those merger papers, they would discover the truth.

They had just acquired a corpse.

A company that looked valuable on paper but carried nothing except debt and liabilities.

By the time they understood what had happened, I would already be gone.

“Honey?”

Nathaniel’s voice drifted from the bathroom.

“Are you coming to bed?”

“In a minute,” I called back smoothly. “I’m just finishing my skincare.”

My phone buzzed against the marble countertop.

One message.

Unknown number.

I picked it up.

Unknown: Hello, my bride.

My pulse skipped.

Another message arrived almost immediately.

Unknown: The jet is fueled. The contract is ready. Are you prepared to marry me and destroy your ex-husband?

A third message appeared.

Unknown: If your answer is yes, I’ll see you soon.