“Divorce my son,” my mother-in-law said coldly.

She pulled an envelope from her designer purse and, without hesitation, hurled it straight at my face. The sting of the impact burned my cheek as the envelope fell onto the table with a dull thud. Bills spilled out, crisp and sterile, scattering like fallen leaves across the polished wood.

Sasha’s eyes narrowed. “Take it. Leave him. I don’t want you to be with him. Especially now that Faye is back.”

Faye. My husband’s first love.

“Fine,” I said, my voice steady. “Transfer ten million dollars into my account within five days, and I’ll walk away.”

For the first time, Sasha blinked. Shock cracked through her expression. Then her lips curled into a sneer. “So, you’re finally showing your true colors, huh? A gold digger after all.”

Her voice dripped with triumph. “Fine. After this, don’t you ever show your face to me—or to my son—again.”

She stood, smoothed her dress, and left without looking back.

The moment she was gone, my entire body began to shake. My knees knocked against each other under the table. By the time I staggered out of the restaurant and slid into the backseat of my car, my strength nearly gave out.

I leaned against the seat, staring blankly out the window.

If this had been years ago, I would have fought. I would have clawed, begged, screamed that Keith and I were real, that we were built on something purer than money, greatest than his first love. But now?

Now, I was done.

My lips trembled as memories unspooled like an old film reel in my mind.

Six years ago, I had been no one. A poor girl on a nameless island, scraping by, living day to day. That was when Keith’s yacht crashed against the jagged reef. He had lost his memory. He didn’t know his name, his past, his wealth. And I, with nothing to my name, took him in. I cared for him with the little I had. Shared my food when I could barely eat myself. And somewhere between washing his wounds and listening to his laughter by the shoreline, we fell in love.

He promised me then he’d buy me the world.

And he meant it. For years on that island, Keith worked tirelessly with me by his side. He built small trades, fixed boats, carried lumber—anything to earn. Every coin he saved, every effort he made, was for us. He wanted to give me everything I had once been denied, to make me happy even in the simplest ways.

I believed him.

And for a time, it was true.

Three years ago, his memories came rushing back. I saw the shift in his eyes when he realized who he was—the heir to a multi-billion-dollar empire. I thought that would change everything. I thought he’d leave me behind. But he didn’t. He brought me with him.

He took me to his world. He introduced me to his parents, defended me against their cutting words, even married me despite their opposition.

For a while, I was happy. It was real. It was love.

Until six months ago.

Until Faye came back.

The woman everyone thought was destined for him. The woman who had walked away once, only to return and reclaim her place as if I were just a placeholder.

And maybe I was.

Because Keith changed. Slowly at first—missed dinners, unanswered calls, distracted stares—but then completely.

The last blow? Today. Our third wedding anniversary. He didn’t come home. Didn’t even text. Instead, his mother showed up, shoving photos across the table—Keith and Faye laughing together, dining together, her hand brushing his arm.

It was as if someone had split me open, and all the love I had poured into him spilled uselessly onto the floor.

My chest tightened as the car rolled forward. Through the tinted window, my gaze snagged on a massive LED screen mounted above the bustling square.

There he was. Keith. Standing beside her.

The video was playing on loop—an interview, fans chanting their names together.

“Keith and Faye! Keith and Faye!”

The crowd cheered, cameras flashing. Reporters called them “perfect together.” Some even asked when they would marry.

My breath hitched.

Once, I never cared that Keith and I had kept our marriage a secret. He told me it was for my protection, that his world was too harsh, too cruel for someone like me. And I believed him.

But now, staring at that screen, I realized the truth.

He was ashamed of me. Too embarrassed to claim me.

Tears stung my eyes, but they didn’t fall. Not yet.

Then I saw it.

Around Faye’s neck gleamed a necklace. A delicate chain with a pendant I knew too well—because it was exactly like mine. The very same design Keith had once given me when we first came back to his world, telling me it was special, that it was ours.

But seeing it now, glittering beneath the camera lights, I realized it had never truly been mine. It was hers all along.

And worse—every gesture, every smile, every way Faye leaned into him on that screen—I recognized them. Because I had once acted that way with Keith because of him.

All this time, Keith must have been molding me to be like her.

My lips parted, a bitter laugh breaking free from my chest.

I was nothing to him now.

By the time the car pulled to a stop in front of the lawyer’s office, I had already wiped the last tear from my cheek. My hands no longer trembled.

I walked inside, chin high, voice steady.

“Draft me a divorce,” I told the lawyer.

“Mrs. Alaric,” he said cautiously, adjusting his glasses, “I reviewed your prenuptial agreement. I’m afraid you can’t file for divorce. According to the terms you and your husband signed… it’s until death do you part.”

The words struck like bullets.

Once upon a time, those words had been romantic. Back then, Keith and I had sworn never to leave each other, had promised forever with stars in our eyes. We were so young, so foolish, believing that love alone could protect us. And when his lawyers suggested the prenup, I didn’t even question it. Why would I? We were in love. Why would we ever need an escape?

And now, staring at the paper, I realized just how stupid I had been.

I let out a bitter laugh, pressing my fingers to my temples. “Don’t worry,” I murmured coldly. “He’ll sign it. One way or another. Whatever happens, I’ll make sure of it.”

The lawyer hesitated, but he printed out the draft and slid it across the desk.

I folded it carefully and tucked it into my bag.

The next morning, I cooked breakfast. Just a few more days of pretending and I’d be gone.

Then, Keith finally came into the kitchen. He slipped his arms around me from behind, his chin resting lightly on my shoulder. For a fleeting second, my heart betrayed me—it fluttered, remembering the man I had once loved.

“How are you?” he murmured. “Sorry I was busy yesterday.”

Yesterday. Our anniversary. He didn’t even say the word.

“Fine,” I replied quietly, prying his arms off me.

That was when his eyes fell to my hand. His brows furrowed. “Where’s your wedding ring?”

I turned back to the stove, flipping the eggs. “I don’t want to wear it anymore.”

The air shifted. His voice hardened. “What’s happening, Katerina? Is this because I missed our anniversary? I told you I was busy. I would have made it up to you.”

I gripped the spatula tighter.

“You know how busy I am with the business,” he went on, voice rising. “I mean, what would you know? You don’t even work. You just stay here.”

The words cut deep, sharper than any blade.

Because suddenly, I remembered.

I remembered years ago, when I had tried to work. When I had burned my hands scrubbing boats, when my palms bled from carrying crates. And Keith had been furious.

“Don’t ever do that again,” he had said, his eyes blazing. “I’ll provide for us. You don’t have to work. I’ll take care of you.”

I had believed him then. And now? He was using it against me.

“Busy with business,” I whispered, my voice trembling. “Or busy with Faye?”

His eyes snapped to mine. “Are we here again? With Faye?” He slammed his hand on the counter. “What, did you stalk us again? Did you use my own money to follow us around? When I told you it was purely business?”

“Business?” I choked.

“Yes!” he shouted. “We’re losing investors. I need her connections. Unless, of course, you can help? But how could you—when you have nothing?”

The words hit like a physical blow.

Nothing.

I was nothing.

He froze the second it left his mouth, realizing what he’d said. But it was too late. The damage was done.

“I…” His voice softened, guilt flashing in his eyes. “I’m sorry. Let me make it up to you. Dinner later. Just us. What do you say?”

But before I could answer, the front door opened.

And in she walked.

Faye. Dressed in a red silk dress that clung to her curves, her heels clicking against the marble floor. Her lips painted in the same shade as her dress. She moved like she owned the place.

“Oh!” she gasped playfully, striding up to Keith. “Sorry.” Then, without hesitation, she leaned forward and kissed him square on the lips.

My stomach turned.

Faye laughed softly. “Muscle memory. I’m just so used to kissing him.” She flicked her gaze at me, feigning innocence. “Oops.”

Then she leaned closer, her perfume suffocating me. “Mind if I borrow your husband? We have a business party to attend.”

My hands clenched at my sides.

But Faye wasn’t finished. She smirked. “Actually… why don’t you come, too? I mean, you’re his wife, right? Even if it’s still a secret.” Her tone dripped with mockery. “Maybe you can be introduced as his secretary or something.”

“Enough, Faye,” Keith said firmly. “She doesn’t need to be there. She’ll just stay home.”

I swallowed the lump in my throat, but before I could reply, Sasha walked in.

“No,” my mother-in-law said smoothly, her eyes cold. “Let her come. She needs to see it for herself.”

The ballroom glittered with chandeliers and crystal glasses, laughter and music echoing against the marble walls. Keith never once held my hand. Never once looked my way.

I became invisible. A wallflower standing at the edge while cameras flashed on him and Faye, while guests whispered about how perfect they looked together.

“They’re meant for each other,” someone said behind me. “Such a perfect pair.”

Sasha leaned close to my ear, her voice a dagger. “See? You don’t belong here.”

I stood frozen, swallowing my pain, until I decided to simply eat. Maybe if I kept my head down, no one would notice. But as I made my way toward the buffet, Faye intercepted me.

“You should eat a lot,” she said sweetly, though her eyes burned with cruelty. “After all, you never had the chance when you were that poor little island girl. See the difference between our worlds? You don’t belong here. So why don’t you just give him back to me?”

I bit my tongue, refusing to answer.

But then her heel slipped forward—deliberately. She shoved lightly against me. My body crashed into the towering display of food. Plates shattered. Trays toppled. An avalanche of sauces and meats splattered across my dress.

The room gasped.

“Who the hell is she?” someone shouted.

“She ruined everything!”

Laughter followed. Cruel. Merciless.

Guards rushed forward. “Ma’am, you need to leave.”

“No—please,” I whispered, trembling. “I’m sorry. I was with Keith—”

“No, I don’t know her.”

My jaw dropped. He never even moved. He just stood there. Silent. Watching. Embarrassed.

As mocking hands shoved me toward the door, as laughter chased me out of the ballroom, my vision blurred. And then, in the cold shadow outside, I fainted.

When I opened my eyes, I was no longer in the glittering ballroom, nor among the laughter and whispers that had crushed me. I was in a darkened room in our house but my head ached, my body heavy. For a moment, I couldn’t remember how I had gotten here.

Then voices outside the door made my stomach twist.

“Lock her in,” Sasha’s voice ordered coldly. “And don’t let her out. Starve her if you have to. She deserves it, after ruining the party.”

“Yes, ma’am,” a maid whispered.

The sound of a key turning in the lock made my blood run cold. I pressed my trembling hands to my face, muffling a sob.

So that was what I was to them. A nuisance. An embarrassment. A prisoner.

I lay in bed, staring at the ceiling, tears streaming down my cheeks. All day passed without Keith even checking on me. Not once. He hadn’t knocked, hadn’t called my name, hadn’t asked if I was alright.

When I finally reached for my phone, my hands still shaking, a notification blinked at the top of the screen. A video message.

It was from Faye.

I tapped it—and my breath caught in my throat.

The video played on loop: Keith and Faye, lips pressed together, kissing as though the world around them didn’t exist.

I wanted to scream, to break the phone, to tear my heart out.

But instead, I blocked her number.

I sat there, staring at the wall, until my hand moved on its own. Until my heart remembered a name I had buried long ago.

Nathan. My childhood friend. Even after we parted ways, he had promised me once—no matter what, if I ever needed him, he would be there.

With trembling fingers, I dialed his number.

He answered on the second ring, his voice older, deeper, but familiar. “Katerina?”

My throat tightened. “Nathan… can you help me? Please. I’m divorcing my husband. Pick me up in three days.”

There was a sharp inhale on the other line. “What happened? Did he hurt you?”

“Yes,” I whispered, my voice breaking. “So please… just come. See you in three days.”

I dropped the call before I could lose my courage.

And when I turned—Keith was standing at the door.

My blood froze.

His face was unreadable, but his voice was sharp. “What’s happening? Who are you calling? Who are you seeing?”

I swallowed hard. “It’s just Nathan. He’s visiting.”

Keith’s jaw clenched. “Nathan? That guy I told you I was jealous of? The one I told you to stop seeing? You’re calling him now?”

“He’s my best friend,” I defended weakly. “He’s always been—”

“I don’t care!” he snapped, his voice rising. “Even if he is, you can’t just run to him.”

I looked at him, my anger finally bubbling to the surface. “And you can run to Faye while I can’t go to Nathan? Tell me, Keith, how is that fair?”

His eyes flashed. “That’s different! Faye is business.”

“And Nathan is loyalty,” I said bitterly.

The silence that followed was suffocating.

Finally, I turned away, my voice low. “I’m sleeping. Get out.”

But Keith didn’t leave. He stepped closer, desperation flickering across his features. “Katerina, come on. Are you still mad about the party? I’m sorry for denying you, but I only did that to protect you. I just… I can’t lose the merger. I need Faye’s connections, but once the deal is signed, I promise I’ll take you on a trip. We’ll tell the world about you.”

He pulled a small box from his pocket, revealing a delicate ring. Slipping it onto my finger, he whispered, “This is a promise. Tomorrow, we’ll have dinner. Just us. Okay?”

I stared at the ring, my chest hollow, and nodded.

The next morning, Keith was in his study, busy with a pile of documents. His pen scratched against the paper, his attention fixed.

I approached quietly, slipping the prenup modification among the stack. “Here, can you sign this? It’s for the house.”

He didn’t even glance at it. Just scrawled his signature and moved on. His phone buzzed beside him—messages from Faye flashing across the screen. He smiled faintly at one before tucking the phone away.

I said nothing.

Instead, I went upstairs, pulled out a box, and began packing everything. All the clothes, the letters, the trinkets of a love that no longer existed. Every piece of myself I had once given to this house.

When the box was full, I dragged it outside, lit a match, and watched it burn.

The flames roared, smoke curling into the sky. My memories turned to ash.

“What are you doing?” Keith’s voice demanded behind me.

I turned, my face blank. “I just want change.”

His brows furrowed, confusion and anger flickering in his eyes. But before he could say more, his phone rang.

Faye’s voice echoed faintly from the speaker. “Ready for the business meeting?”

Keith sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. “I’ll see you at dinner later, okay?” he told me, then walked away.

I prepared myself. I wore the dress he once said made me look beautiful, fixed my hair, set the table.

Dinner, he had promised.

But the hours stretched thin. One hour. Two. Nearly three.

And he never came.

I stood, ready to walk away, when the television in the living room caught my eye.

Breaking news flashed across the screen.

Heir to the Alaric empire, Keith Alaric, and Faye Laurent—soon to be married.

My world stopped.

On the screen, Keith stood beside her, smiling, their hands clasped as the press cheered.

I pressed a hand to my chest, but the pain was unbearable.

A laugh tore from my lips—bitter, hollow, broken.

Of course.

Of course, this was the truth.

I was nothing.

And maybe I had always been.

Because truly, Keith and I never belonged in the same world.