Her words dripped with false kindness, her sneer barely hidden. She thought she’d secured herself a glittering future.

I almost pitied her. Almost.

If only she knew what I had endured. The price I paid for that so-called perfect marriage.

Silas had never been the devoted husband he pretended to be. And the children I bore him? They were never the result of love.

Silas was almost like Jaxon, but with one difference—he cared about appearances. He cared about how people saw him, about his reputation, about the perfect picture he painted in public.

Behind closed doors, it was another story.

At the start of our marriage, we struggled to have children. The problem was Silas’s. But still, he laid the blame at my feet. My body, my failure, my infertility.

He paraded me through hospitals, demanding procedure after procedure, forcing me through endless IVF shots until my arms were bruised and my spirit broken.

Eventually, I did get pregnant. And to the world, Silas looked like the devoted husband who had finally been blessed with an heir.

At Silas’s countless social gatherings, he posed with me on his arm, smiling, protective, the very picture of a man who adored his wife.

And then the doors would shut, and I was treated no better than his staff. If not worse.

The only sin Silas avoided was striking me. Everything else—every way a man could degrade and disrespect a woman—he excelled at.

“That’s good to hear, Lila.” I smiled sweetly at her across the room. “I truly hope you’ll be happy in your upcoming marriage. I heard Silas Vane could be… rather harsh.”

Her face tightened, just for a second. “Bitter much, Seraphina? Are you jealous? Because I get to marry Silas, and you don’t?”

“No, of course not.” My smile never faltered. “I just want to make sure my little sister won’t regret today’s choice. Sometimes a man isn’t what he seems, you know.”

“Don’t try to influence me,” Lila snapped, her chin tilting high. “I’ll have the perfect marriage. I’ll give Father everything he wants. As for you and your Lucien Blackwell? Let’s just hope you don’t end up discarded at the end.”

She rolled her eyes, triumphant, and swept away.

I held my smile until she was gone. Let’s hope you never regret it, Lila. Because with Silas, regret isn’t an option. It’s either endurance or nothing.

…

The months that followed were unbearable. Lila never stopped talking. What Silas had bought her. Where Silas had taken her. Jewelry. Dresses. Dinners. A dream spun into words until I wanted to gag.

And Lucien? I hadn’t seen him once since our engagement was announced.

“Your Mr. Blackwell hasn’t shown up once, has he?” Lila sneered one morning, her lips curling. “Too poor to take you shopping?”

I ignored her, smoothing my dress. “Don’t mind me, Lila. Just focus on your own wedding.”

Her laugh was sharp. She opened her mouth again, but the butler entered before she could draw blood.

“Miss Dusks,” he said with a bow, carrying a polished wooden box. “Mr. Blackwell left this for you.”

My head snapped up. “He didn’t come in?”

“He said it would be bad fortune to see the bride before the wedding. A very handsome, very gentle man, if I may say so, Miss Dusk.” The butler’s eyes twinkled as he passed me the box.

Our wedding was three days away.

“What is it? What did he give you?” Lila was practically clawing for the box, her greed thinly veiled.

I pulled it against my chest and stood. “I’m tired. Father, if you’ll excuse me.”

…

As soon as I shut the door to my room, I carried the box to my dresser. My hands lingered on the lid. What could Lucien Blackwell possibly have given me?

When I opened it, my breath caught.

A diamond necklace. Not just any diamond, either. I had never seen a piece this luminous, this unapologetically extravagant. Every inch of it sparkled like captured starlight.

For weeks, I had been preparing myself to fund my own wedding—dress, jewelry, everything. The Blackwells were a fallen house, and I had assumed Lucien would bring nothing but his name. I never imagined he would give me something so breathtaking.

Beneath the necklace lay a small envelope.

I unfolded the note inside, Lucien’s handwriting clean and firm:

Miss Dusk, this necklace is a Blackwell heirloom. By giving it to you, I hope you see my gratitude for our marriage. I wish for your happiness as much as my own, and I hope to see you wear this on our wedding day.

No woman hated diamonds. And no woman could resist this diamond. The necklace gleamed as though the world itself had been set in silver and fire.

With trembling hands, I lifted it free and fastened it around my throat. It sat perfectly, like it had been made for me. For the first time, I could almost see it—the dress I had chosen, this necklace at my throat, and myself walking down the aisle.

…

The wedding day arrived far too quickly. At Father’s insistence, Lila and I were to marry on the same day, in the same hotel, each with our own ballroom. Lila insisted on joining me in my bridal suite, pretending it was for sisterhood. I knew better.

“Sera, look at my dress.” She twirled in satin and lace, smug as a queen. “Isn’t this the most stunning gown you’ve ever seen?” Her gaze flicked over mine, and her lip curled. “Plain. Are you really going to wear that on your wedding day? Well, I suppose when you’re marrying a Blackwell, you can’t expect to dress like royalty.”

I ignored her, carefully applying my lipstick.

She smirked at my silence. “You don’t have to pretend, Sera. I know you feel terrible. You must regret—”

For once, I cut her off. Slowly, I turned, letting the light catch the diamonds at my throat. “What do you think of this necklace?”

Her expression faltered. “Where did you get that? Fake diamonds?”

“Real,” I said evenly. “Lucien gave me this when we were engaged. He asked me to wear it today.”

I rose, smoothing my gown, and walked toward the door. Just before leaving, I glanced back at her.

“Here’s some advice, Lila. Don’t brag about things you don’t understand.”

Her face twisted, red with fury. “You—”

But I didn’t stay to hear the rest. I closed the door behind me and walked toward my ballroom, the necklace gleaming like a shield against every sneer and every lie.

Lila hadn’t exaggerated. Her wedding was a spectacle—grand enough to outshine the one I’d had with Silas in my past life. The ballroom was overflowing, glittering with chandeliers, champagne, and guests that mattered. Even a state senator had come to offer his congratulations.

My own wedding hall sat at the opposite end of the corridor. Smaller. Quieter. But intimate in a way that mattered to me more.

When I asked Lucien if he wanted to invite anyone from his circle, his answer had been simple. “Invite whoever you want. As for me—only family. I don’t have many friends.”

That had struck something in me. Because I didn’t either.

So, in the end, only my closest girlfriends and Father were invited. He would watch me wed first, then hurry across the hall to watch Lila’s grand affair.

I expected my wedding to feel small, maybe even lonely. Instead, it was nothing I imagined.

The Blackwells weren’t cold, calculating, or arrogant like my father, nor shallow and preening like Lila. They were warm. Welcoming. Gentle, just like Lucien. And somehow, what should have been plain felt cozy. Real. Happy.

When the officiant’s voice rang out—“Take Seraphina Dusk as your loyal wife, to never abandon her, to support her in poor or rich. Mr. Blackwell, you may kiss your bride”—I braced myself.

Lucien leaned in, close enough that I felt my heart stumble and my cheeks heat. His breath brushed mine. “May I?” he whispered.

I nodded. He kissed me lightly, reverently, as if I were something precious.

…

“Have you packed already?” Lucien asked later as he drove me back to the Dusk mansion. We had agreed I would move out today.

“Yes, just a few boxes. I don’t own much,” I said with a small smile.

But when we pulled into the driveway, we ran straight into Lila and Silas.

“Honey,” Lila said, her voice dripping with false sweetness as she leaned into Silas’s arm, “this is my stepsister and her… husband.”

Her gaze slid to Lucien, and she gave a cruel little laugh. “Have you heard of the Blackwells? This is that Blackwell—the one who went poor. Couldn’t even afford to buy my sister a wedding dress. Honestly, I feel sorry for them. Maybe we should give them some of our money. As charity.”

The insult burned hotter than any she’d thrown before. She wasn’t sneering at just me anymore—she was sneering at Lucien.

I stepped forward, seized her wrist, and yanked her around. “Apologize.”

She jerked, trying to pull free. “Get off me. I’m only telling the truth.”

“I said—apologize.” My voice came out sharper than steel. Fury flared hot and unrelenting. “You’ve crossed a line, Lila. My husband and I are not yours to mock.”

Her eyes widened, panic flickering beneath the bravado. “How dare you? Which part did I say wrong? That the Blackwells are broke? Or that he couldn’t afford your dress?”

“I won’t ask again.” My grip tightened on her wrist. “Apologize to Lucien. Now.”

“Miss Dusk.” Silas finally stepped in, voice smooth, his tone that of a mafia king who always played diplomat. “If my wife has offended you in any way, then please—allow me to apologize on her behalf.”

I smiled, releasing Lila at last. “Okay.”

Silas’s practiced expression froze. “What?”

“You said you’d apologize on her behalf,” I said calmly, my voice steady. “So go ahead. Apologize to my husband.”

Silas hadn’t expected that. His smile faltered, stretching into something stiff, unnatural. Still, he turned to Lucien. “Sorry. My wife spoke out of turn. Since you and I are brothers-in-law now, surely you won’t hold it against her. She’s… straightforward.”

“Understood,” Lucien replied, his arm tightening protectively around my waist. His voice was smooth but edged with steel. “But let’s hope we never hear words like that from Mrs. Vane again.”

Lila’s face burned with fury, but I didn’t miss the flicker in her eyes—the quick, wary glance she gave Silas, like she was afraid of him.

After Lucien helped me move, we began our honeymoon. I’d suggested a quiet resort, something simple, given the Blackwell family’s financial state. But Lucien insisted on Bora Bora.

We landed at sunset, the sky painted pink and gold, the ocean glimmering like fire. For the first time since my rebirth, I felt… at peace. Like here, on this island, I could let go of every fear and burden.

“Come,” Lucien murmured, guiding me forward. “I booked us a suite.”

The word alone made my cheeks flush. Tonight would be my first night with Lucien Blackwell. I told myself I wasn’t nervous, but my racing heart betrayed me.

The moment we stepped into the suite, the atmosphere shifted. The room was ours alone—private, hushed, intimate. A bed scattered with red roses waited for us, hinting at everything that was about to happen.

Lucien took my hand and pulled me closer. “May I?” he asked softly, his eyes searching mine.

I nodded, whispering, “You don’t have to ask permission every time…”

And yet, the fact that he did—it made him the gentlest man I’d ever met.

His kiss was not gentle. Not this time. It was heated, urgent, consuming. My breath hitched as he claimed my mouth, and in a blur, we were falling back onto the bed, roses crushed beneath us.

Lucien looked down at me, his eyes burning, his fingers firm on my waist. The intensity of his gaze made me turn my head shyly, even though I wasn’t pulling away.

I shouldn’t have been shy. I’d been a wife, a mother. But here I was, blushing like a girl of eighteen.

“You don’t want this?” Lucien asked, his voice hesitant.

“No…” I turned back, meeting his eyes. “I’m just nervous.”

His lips quirked, almost boyish. “I am too.”

We both laughed then, the tension easing, though the fire between us didn’t dim.

He leaned closer, murmuring against my lips, “We shouldn’t waste another second.”

I didn’t answer with words. I kissed him back, surrendering to the moment, to him.

I had expected this marriage to be formal, distant—a business arrangement, nothing more. But in that bed, with Lucien Blackwell above me, burning with quiet passion, I realized how wrong I’d been.

Who would have imagined the calm, cold Lucien could be this hot, this devastating, this heartbreakingly sexy?

…

Life after the wedding turned out to be calmer than I expected. To my surprise, Lila hadn’t shown her face at my new home with Lucien. She hadn’t contacted me, hadn’t sent a single sneer my way.

Then, I heard the news—Lila was about to give birth.

It hadn’t even been a year since the wedding, and Lila was pregnant. From Father’s words, her due date was set for the first of next month.

If my calculations were correct, Lila must have conceived just after the wedding. There wouldn’t have been time for IVF treatments, especially considering Silas’s… condition.

I knew about Silas’s infertility from my past life. We’d gone to the doctor together when I couldn’t get pregnant. After tests, we’d learned the truth—Silas couldn’t father a child without medical intervention.

How could Silas—almost infertile Silas—have gotten Lila pregnant so quickly? Without any medical help?

The answer was almost too obvious, and yet, I refused to let myself think that way.

It’s not that I didn’t believe Lila was capable of such a thing, but if she truly dared to carry another man’s child just to please Silas Vane, I fear he would seek revenge on the entire Dusk family.

…

A month passed, and still, there was no happy announcement from Lila. The birth should have happened by now.

Something was wrong. But I wasn’t prepared to concern myself with her life.

Then, to my surprise, Lila called two days later. She was back at the Dusk mansion and wanted to meet me. She missed me, she said.

It felt odd. I had no idea why she would suddenly reach out. But curiosity tugged at me, and eventually, I decided to return home.

When I opened the front door, I found Lila sitting on the sofa, cradling a newborn in her arms.

The baby cried loudly, the sound filling the room. But as Lila stood to greet me, I caught a clearer glimpse of the baby’s face. And my breath caught in my throat.

The child had bright blue eyes.

Bright blue.

That was genetically impossible. Unless… Unless the baby wasn’t Silas’s like I’d predicted.