Colton knew. He knew I had asthma. He knew the heat could trigger my attacks. He knew I was terrified of the dark.

He used to care. I remembered the time I got stuck in the elevator at his company’s tower. The lights went out. The air was thick. I was hyperventilating. Panicking.

And he didn’t hesitate. He broke protocol, demanded the power be rerouted just to get the doors open. He pulled me into his arms, whispering over and over, "You’re safe. I’ve got you. I’ll never let anything hurt you."

Lies.

Because now? Now he locked me in the basement. A place that reeked of mold and metal. No windows. No lights. Just endless black swallowing me whole.

All because of her.

My voice cracked as I called his name. Again. Again. Again.

But my cries just echoed, bouncing off cold walls and mocking me back. No one came. No one even answered.

My chest tightened.

Tears blurred my vision as I pressed my back against the damp floor, curling into myself. “How… how did we end up here?” I whispered into the silence. “Did I really… believe you loved me?”

Maybe I did. Maybe that was my biggest sin—believing in Colton.

But now the truth was louder than any of my screams: I was never his choice. Just a contract. A convenience. And when Shania returned, I became disposable.

Suddenly, I couldn’t breathe.

I gasped, clawing at the air. It was too hot. Too heavy. My lungs tightened like they were being wrung out.

“Asthma,” I choked out. “P-please…”

I reached for the door. Crawled toward the stairs. “Help…”

Nothing. No voice. No footsteps. Just the growing roar in my ears and the throb in my head.

Then everything went black.

I woke to the soft beep of a heart monitor and the sterile scent of antiseptic. The lights were dim, but not dark. My body ached. I tried to move, but every inch of me pulsed with pain.

“You’re awake.” A nurse appeared beside me. Her voice was kind, but her expression… hesitant. “Don’t move too much, Miss Ellie. You’ve got some bruises. Insect bites too. And your breathing’s not fully stable yet.”

My lips were dry. “Wh-where… am I?”

“You’re in a private hospital. You were found unconscious in a basement. Sent here by… a butler, I believe.”

I blinked. “Not my husband Colton?”

She shook her head. “No. No visitors have come.”

No calls. No messages. Nothing.

My heart cracked.

He left me there to die.

That was it. The last straw. I was done waiting. Done hoping.

Later that afternoon, I called the airline. I booked the earliest flight out going to Germany where I also sent my brother hoping he would wake up anytime soon. Then I took care of myself. Ate. Took my meds. Showered with the IV still taped to my arm.

No one would do it for me.

That evening, I sat on the hospital bed, wrapped in a blanket, scrolling through the internet just to pass time. That’s when I saw it.

A video from an auction.

Colton beside Shania, bidding ridiculously high on every item she glanced at. Shania laughed as she kissed his cheeks. They were so sweet with each other.

“He’s definitely her sugar daddy.”

“No way, they look married.”

“Wait… isn’t that Colton Smith?”

“Is she his secret wife?”

My stomach twisted.

We never went public. Colton always said it was to protect me. "The media’s harsh," he claimed. "They’ll eat you alive."

But now it made sense. Maybe I was never meant to be introduced. A secret until Shania could return. Someone to warm his bed and fill the legal gap—until the woman he truly wanted could take her rightful place.

I tossed my phone aside, face buried in my pillow. I didn’t cry this time. I was too numb for tears. I closed my eyes, deciding I’d rest as much as I could. Ten days. I just needed to survive ten more days.

I thought sleep would numb me. But I was wrong.

I woke to sudden heat pressing against my ribs—too hot. Burning.

“Ahhh!” I screamed, jerking upright.

My eyes flew open.

Shania. Standing at the foot of my bed. Holding a heat pad against my side. Smirking like the devil herself.

“Oops,” she said sweetly. “Too hot for your weak lungs?”

I tried to pull away, but she clicked her tongue and leaned closer.

“Still clinging to life, huh? Honestly… are you planning to stay? Or do you want to just die already, so I can finally have my Colton without your pathetic shadow?”

I stared at her from the hospital bed, my body aching, lungs still recovering from the asthma attack. But nothing hurt more than her words—and the fact that she had the power to be here, standing above me like she had already won.

My voice was soft, but steady. “I don’t want to fight you.”

She scoffed, but I continued.

“You already won. He brought you back, didn’t he? He chose you. What else do you need?”

Shania’s smirk didn’t waver. “What else do I need?” She took a step closer, lowering her voice like she was whispering a secret. “I need you gone.”

She raised her hand, flaunting a sparkling ring I hadn’t seen before. It glinted under the hospital lights, intentionally positioned in front of my face.

“We’re getting married, Ellie. For real this time. No contracts. No business deals. Just love,” she said, her smile dripping with venom. “So pack whatever little pride you have left and leave. For good.”

I swallowed the bitterness pooling in my throat. “You don’t have to worry,” I said, holding her gaze. “I’m leaving. I just need a few more days.”

“Good.” Her voice sharpened. “Make sure you never come back.”

I nodded slowly. “Then make sure Colton doesn’t come looking for me.”

Shania’s laughter rang through the room, mocking and cruel. “Oh, dear,” she said with a chuckle. “He won’t. He didn’t even visit you, did he?”

My chest tightened, but I kept my face unreadable.

“Want proof?” she asked, reaching into her purse.

I didn’t answer, but she didn’t need permission. She pulled out her phone and pressed play.

Colton’s voice filtered into the room, low and irritated. “Ellie? She’s nothing. Just a bed warmer. A glorified nanny, really. I never loved her. She was just… convenient. You’re the one I truly love, Shania, forever. I’ll dispose of her soon. Don’t worry…”

My heart dropped, even though I already knew he would say that.

Shania tilted her head in mock sympathy. “Still want to believe he’s run after you like what he did to me?”

I clenched my jaw, tears stinging my eyes—but I refused to let them fall. I had cried enough for him.

“Just get lost,” I snapped, my voice breaking. “Stay away from me.”

But the door swung open before she could respond.

“What the hell did you just say to her?”

Colton’s voice thundered into the room.

I looked up—and there he was. His sharp jaw tense, his eyes cold and full of anger.

“She visited you while you were in this state, and that’s how you treat her?” he continued. “You should be thanking her—apologizing for what you did.”

I blinked at him. “Apologize?” I said in disbelief. “For what?”

Colton’s expression turned even darker. “Are you serious? It’s your fault she got hurt. You pushed her away from me. You’re the reason she got caught up in all that. If you hadn’t meddled, none of this would’ve happened.”

Something in me shattered right then. There wasn’t any misunderstanding left. He meant it.

I looked at him—really looked at him—and saw someone I didn’t recognize anymore.

“I don’t want to hear this,” I muttered. “Just get out. Both of you. I just want to rest.”

But Colton wasn’t done.

He marched toward me and grabbed my arm roughly.

“No, Ellie. You’re not resting.”

“Colton, stop—”

He pulled me up from the bed, uncaring of the IV attached to my hand or the sharp pain that surged through my side.

“Have you forgotten?” he hissed. “You’re supposed to be arranging my birthday party. It’s in two days, and you’re still lying here like some victim?”

“I am a victim,” I whispered, pain laced in every word.

He didn’t hear me. Or maybe he didn’t care.

“Get up. You’ve got things to do.”

I looked at the nurse for help, but she averted her eyes.

I wanted to scream, to collapse, to disappear—but I didn’t.

I stood. Slowly. My body trembled. My side ached. My heart bled.

But I stood. Just a few more days.

My brother still hadn’t woken up.

Every day, I stared at my phone waiting for some kind of progress, a call, a message—anything. But all I got was silence. Doctors said he was stable but unresponsive. Still no signs. Still no change.

And Colton? He didn’t ask once.

Not a single question about the only person I had left in this world. He didn’t even pretend to care. Yet, I kept my face composed. I did everything expected of me. Every flower placement, every menu tasting, every arrangement for his grand birthday celebration—I handled it all. Alone.

Meanwhile, Shania and Colton were laughing in boutiques, trying on diamond chokers and arguing over designer gowns like it was their party. They had the time, the money, and the spotlight. I had sleepless nights and blisters on my palms from handling the setup.

“You’re amazing, Ellie,” Shania would say sweetly whenever Colton passed by, looping her arm around mine. “Really, thank you so much for doing this. I hope you’re not too exhausted?”

But the moment his back turned, her grip would tighten, her eyes narrowing like blades. “Keep smiling, little servant. You’re good at that.”

By the time Colton’s birthday arrived, I was running on nothing but fumes. My body ached, my head throbbed, and my lungs still hadn’t fully recovered. But I showed up. I put on the silver dress one of the assistants tossed to me last minute and walked into the glittering venue like I belonged there.

Just one night. Just this one night, and I’d be gone.

The papers had come earlier that day—my name had been officially removed from the registry. Ellie no longer existed.

The room sparkled with chandeliers and whispered elegance. People clinked champagne glasses. Cameras flashed. And at the center of it all stood Colton—dashing, untouchable—his arm around Shania, smiling like she was the sun and he, the sky basking in her light.

He even thanked her publicly. “And a special thanks to Shania, who helped plan tonight’s event. Let’s all give her a round of applause. My Shania, the one who’d always supported me ever since.”

Everyone clapped. I stayed hidden behind the curtain of guests, my existence now demoted to nothing more than staff. And I wasn’t even thanked. Shania? No! I was the one who did that!

They believed the lie. That she was the woman he had been hiding all this time. That she was his wife. Not me. Never me.

I turned to leave quietly before the dancing began, but one of the event staff stopped me, whispering that I was needed to serve drinks to the VIP table. His table.

I hesitated. My throat was dry. My hands trembled. But I nodded.

And when I reached the table, tray in hand, everything happened too fast.

Shania "accidentally" shifted her chair back, her heel hooking the hem of my dress. I lost my balance, the tray tilting wildly as drinks spilled and shattered across the marble floor with a loud crash.

Gasps echoed. Chaos. Sticky juice soaked the hem of Shania’s gown.

“Oh no! Are you okay?” she cried dramatically, hands to her mouth, feigning shock and worry.

Colton was furious. His eyes burned through me. “Ellie, what the hell is wrong with you? Can’t you even serve drinks properly?”

I stood up slowly, my knees scraped, my pride torn.

“I didn’t—”

“Don’t even try,” he snapped. “Useless.”

Before I could say another word, murmurs filled the room.

Phones buzzed. People looked around, gasping. The projector lit up.

And then I saw them. Photos. Doctored, manipulated images I’d never seen before. Me—naked, touching Colton, kissing him, lying in bed like some seductress. Twisted versions of stolen moments, edited to look like something vile.

Whispers became accusations.

“Isn’t she the wife?”

“I thought she was just the planner?”

“That’s definitely Colton.”

“Is she his mistress?”

All eyes turned to me. Burning.

Colton’s face twisted with rage—not at the invasion, but at the possibility of being associated with me.

“She is not my wife,” he said coldly into the mic, silencing the room. “She’s the woman who seduced me. She’s a mistress. Nothing more. Shania is my wife—and the love of my life.”

My body froze.

Then the security guards came. Rough hands. Pushing. Pulling.

“Get her out of here! I don’t want her ruining our night.”