Three years since I became Mrs. Dominic Hale.

I said it out loud that morning, whispering to my reflection as sunlight streamed through our bedroom window. “Happy anniversary to our family, baby,” I murmured, pressing a hand to my belly. Inside me—small, fragile, and barely six weeks old—was a secret I’d been dying to tell my husband.

It was supposed to be perfect.

Dominic and I hadn’t started with love. We were rivals before we were husband and wife—two companies forced into alliance through an arranged marriage neither of us wanted. He was cold, calculating, and infuriatingly arrogant.

I was proud, stubborn, determined to match his fire with my own. We fought about everything—shares, strategies, dinner menus—but somewhere in the endless clashes, I fell for him.

I thought he did too.

He started bringing me coffee when I worked late, wrapping a coat around my shoulders when I fell asleep at my desk. Little things. Quiet, careful gestures that made me believe we were building something real.

So today, I prepared everything—his favorite meal, a small box with a silver keychain engraved Dad-to-be, and candles I’d been saving since our honeymoon.

When he called to tell me we’d go out instead, I didn’t think twice. “I have a surprise,” he said. His voice was calm, as always, smooth like glass hiding something sharp.

I dressed up. Cream dress. Diamond earrings. Hope glowing inside me like a secret sun.

But when the car stopped in front of an unfamiliar building—a private event hall with gold-tinted glass and a row of suited guards—I felt the first flicker of unease.

“Dominic?” I asked softly as he helped me out. “Where are we?”

He didn’t answer. Just guided me through the marble lobby, where laughter and clinking glasses echoed. There were people in tuxedos, women draped in jewels, champagne glinting under chandeliers. My fingers curled around his sleeve. “Is this a charity gala? You could’ve told me—”

We stopped before a stage. My heart stuttered.

There were numbers flashing on screens, men murmuring into phones, and a host speaking in hushed tones. “Lot 47,” he announced. “A rare, exclusive offer tonight.”

I turned to Dominic, confused. But he was already looking at me—expressionless, eyes colder than I’d ever seen.

Then he said it.

“She’s the item.”

The words didn’t make sense at first. I laughed—a broken, nervous sound. “Dominic… stop joking.”

He didn’t smile. “You’ll fetch a good price. I need the funds. You always said your beauty was an asset.”

I froze. “What are you talking about?”

He turned to the host. “Proceed.”

Hands grabbed me before I could move. Two men in suits dragged me forward as I screamed his name. “Dominic! Please! You’re scaring me—stop!”

He didn’t even look at me.

They pushed me under the lights. I could see faces in the crowd, eyes watching, assessing, calculating. I wanted to run, to disappear—but my knees buckled, and all I could do was tremble as the auctioneer’s voice cut through the air.

“Starting bid—two million.”

Laughter. Murmurs. Someone raised a paddle.

“Three million.”

“Four.”

“Dominic!” My voice cracked. “Please, I’m your wife!”

He finally looked up then. His lips curved into a faint, tired smile. “I told you, Hannah. I need money. You… can help. And wife? We’ve always been enemies if you must remember.”

Everything in me shattered.

I begged. I cried. I told them I was pregnant. I told them I’d do anything if they’d stop. But Dominic turned his back before I even finished the sentence.

When the bidding stopped, a voice announced, “Sold.”

I don’t remember walking. Only cold hands leading me into a dim VIP suite, my wrists shaking, the sound of doors locking behind me. I kept saying the same words over and over—I’m pregnant. Please. Don’t hurt me.

They didn’t listen.

Pain blurred everything—shouts, laughter, the metallic taste of fear. Then, suddenly, the door burst open.

A man’s voice thundered through the chaos. “Enough!”

The next seconds were confusion—fists, shouts, someone being thrown against the wall. And then arms—strong, steady arms—lifted me from the floor.

When I blinked through tears, I saw him. Adrian Wolfe. Dominic’s business rival. The man he hated most.

“Stay with me,” Adrian said, his voice low but urgent. “You’re safe now.”

Safe. The word felt foreign.

Then everything went black.

When I woke up, it was to the sound of beeping monitors and the sterile scent of antiseptic. My body ached. My throat burned. I turned my head—and Adrian was there, sitting in a chair, his expression unreadable.

“Where’s…” My voice broke. “My baby?”

He didn’t speak. Just lowered his gaze.

That was when the doctor entered, holding a clipboard, face pale with pity. “Mrs. Hale, I’m so sorry. You suffered severe internal bleeding. The baby didn’t survive.”

I felt the world tilt.

“And,” the doctor continued, voice softer now, “the damage… it’s extensive. I’m afraid you might not be able to conceive again.”

Silence. Thick. Endless. Something inside me cracked wide open.

I stared at the ceiling as tears slid into my hair. My body felt hollow, as if something sacred had been torn from it. My heart screamed—but no sound came out.

Adrian stood, eyes glinting with quiet fury. “He’ll pay for this.”

I laughed, a sound too broken to be human. “He already took everything.”

He stepped closer, his voice a whisper of steel. “Then let me give you a way to take it back.”

I turned to him, eyes red. “Why would you help me?”

“Because I hate him too.”

For a long time, I just stared. At the stranger who had saved me from ruin. At the man offering revenge instead of comfort.

And in that moment, something inside me shifted.

So when he finally said, “Marry me, Hannah,” I didn’t hesitate.

Because if hell had room for two broken souls, I would rather burn with him—than ever forgive Dominic Hale.

I spent another day in the hospital. My body was still weak, but the silence hurt more than the pain. I thought maybe Dominic would finally show some care—maybe ask how I was.

But when the door opened, the first thing he said was,

“Did you ditch the client? Seriously, Hannah? I sold you for a reason. You could’ve just played your part so I could get the money.”

I froze. My chest tightened. “You… sold me?” I asked slowly. “Are you insane?”

He didn’t even look guilty. “I told you I need money, and what’s wrong with that? I am your husband, so I can use you as an asset. But you ruined it!”

“Then you could’ve asked!” I shouted. “If you need help and money, you can ask me. How dare you sell me? They tortured me—”

He cut me off sharply. “I need more, Hannah. And I’m sure you wouldn’t give it to me. You’ve been hiding deals from me. Do you think I don’t know you’ve been stealing clients behind my back?”

“I didn’t steal anything from you!” I snapped. “It’s not my fault they want to work with me and not your company! You should do better!”

He gave a dry, humorless laugh. “Or maybe it’s because you’ve been seducing them.”

I stared at him, disgusted. “What did you just say?”

“You heard me.” His eyes narrowed. “And don’t think I don’t know about the man who saved you that night. Who is he? Your boyfriend? Your paramour? Tell me!”

“No!” I yelled. “There’s no one! I don’t have anyone—maybe it’s you who has someone else so you want to kill me!”

The sound came fast—a sharp crack echoing across the room. He slapped me. My cheek stung, and I could taste blood on my lip.

“This is your fault,” he said coldly. “Because of you, I didn’t close that deal. So you better settle this, Hannah. If you have to seduce the client, then do it. Otherwise, you need to give me everything from your company!”

My voice trembled, but I forced myself to speak. “You’d say that to me? After everything? I lost our baby, Dominic! And I can't get pregnant anymore.”

He looked at me without a trace of emotion. “So what? It’s just a baby. It’s not like I ever wanted one with you.”

For a moment, I couldn’t breathe. His words pierced deeper than the slap. I felt my vision blur, and before I could say anything else, he turned and left the room.

When the door shut, the silence broke me. My hands shook as I covered my face, and I cried—hard and uncontrollably. It wasn’t just pain anymore. It was the realization that the man I had loved was long gone, maybe he never existed at all.

Then came the flashback.

I saw it clearly—the beginning, when we were still enemies pretending to be husband and wife.

Dominic and I never had peace. We fought over everything—projects, clients, even the color of our office walls.

“You think you’re smarter than me just because your father handed you half of the company?” he once shouted across the room.

“At least I earned my half!” I threw back. “You’re just scared that I might actually be better than you.”

He slammed his hand on the table. “You’re impossible.”

“And you’re arrogant,” I spat.

Those were our early days—sharp, ugly, and full of hate. Sometimes he’d grab my wrist when I tried to walk away; sometimes I’d shove him back. We were chaos disguised as a marriage.

But somewhere along the line, the shouting softened.

He started showing up to my meetings. Bringing me coffee. Asking if I’d eaten.

“You’ll get sick if you keep skipping meals,” he said one night, placing a bowl of soup beside my laptop.

I remember laughing quietly. “Since when did you start caring?”

He only shrugged. “You’re my wife. I have to.”

It was stupid how that made me smile. For the first time, I thought maybe things could be different.

Maybe we could actually be a real couple, not just two enemies forced to share a name.

He began to change—gentler, warmer. He kissed me goodnight. He remembered anniversaries. And I fell, completely, believing he was falling too.

But now, lying in this hospital bed, I realized the truth.

All of it—his kindness, his gestures, his care—had been a lie.

A strategy.

He had never loved me. And I had been too blind to see it.

I wiped my tears and reached for my phone. My hands still trembled, but my voice was steady when I spoke.

“Mr. Cruz,” I said when my lawyer answered. “I want to file for a divorce.”

There was a pause. “Mrs. Hale… I’m not sure that would be possible right now.”

“What do you mean?” I asked sharply.

“Both your families are tied by several contracts. Your father and Mr. Hale’s father won’t agree to it easily. It could destroy the business alliance—”

“I don’t care,” I interrupted. “Draft the papers.”

He hesitated. “Even if I draft it, you’ll need your father’s approval to proceed. Without that, the court won’t—”

“I’ll convince him,” I said coldly. “Just do what I said.”

He sighed. “Understood, Mrs. Hale.”

“And one more thing,” I added. “Make sure every investor, every partner we can reach—moves to my company. I don’t want Dominic to have a single one left.”

I discharged myself and went home alone. My body was tired, but my mind was sharp.

As I walked through the hallway, voices stopped me cold. Dominic… moaning with a woman. My chest tightened, a mix of anger and disgust.

I didn’t hesitate. I pushed open the door. He didn’t even flinch. He didn’t stop. He just looked at me for a brief second before returning to what he was doing, completely unashamed.

I took a steady breath, my eyes burning with fury.

“Let’s get a divorce,” I said, my voice calm but deadly. “I’m done. I’m done with lies, with betrayal, with everything you’ve done.”

“Let’s get a divorce,” I said, my voice calm but deadly. “I’m done. I’m done with lies, with betrayal, with everything you’ve done.”

He laughed—long, hollow. “Divorce? Never. I will never divorce you, Hannah. I will make you suffer. Watch me.” He smirked and, without a pause, turned back to the woman at his side, his hands already roaming. “I’ll moan for someone else,” he said, loud enough for me to hear as if he were savoring the insult.

“You’re doing this because you didn’t close a deal?” I asked, because the idea of him wrecking our marriage over money was ridiculous and cruel. “So this is revenge?”

He met my eyes, cold. “No. This is because you were cheating on me. And if I find the man who saved you—” His voice dropped to a dangerous whisper. “I will end him.”

He didn’t stop. He said it and resumed as if nothing more needed saying. I stood there while his pet continued, and when I thought it might end, it didn’t.

Night after night he brought someone new — women who laughed too loud and trailed perfume down the corridor. He made a show of it, leaving doors ajar, letting the house smell like someone else’s sin.

One night he tossed a small packet of condoms onto the bed where I sat, folding laundry like I always did. “Buy a bigger pack next time,” he called without looking up. “And grab extras — these never last.”

I picked the packet up and flung it back at him. It hit his chest. “Grow up.”

He only shrugged. “If you won’t, fine. But pay the girls tonight. The accountant needs the receipts.”

“You want me to pay for them?” My voice was flat. Rage warmed my palms.

“You’re the wife,” he said with a lazy smile. “Handle it. Keep the house running.”

I put the packet into my bag and went to study. I signed the transfer he’d set up without reading it, fingers steady. I’d learned to obey for now — to feed his theater while I gathered proof, investors, and strength. Let him rot in his tastes. Let him believe he broke me.

Inside, something colder settled. I would leave.

I would take everything he relied on. But until then, I kept my face composed, paid the receipts, and let the house keep burning for him.

I told my father. I expected outrage, maybe a command to leave. Instead my father’s face hardened like stone. “It’s your duty to keep him steady,” he said sharply.

“You can’t divorce him now. Not when the families and the investors are counting on the alliance. Turn a blind eye, Hannah. Think of the company. It’s your fault for not making sure he’d fall for you.”

My hands shook. “You’re asking me to stay and watch?” I couldn’t hide the hurt. “He sold me. He sold me for money—”

“You know what’s at stake,” my father said. “Sometimes sacrifices are necessary.”

I ran to my best friend Katerina's door and pounded until she opened. She pulled me inside without a word. No questions. Just a hold that made my knees stop shaking.

“Katerina…” I couldn’t finish. My voice broke. Tears fell hard and fast.

She sat me down on the couch. Jacob, three years old, clung to her skirt and peered at me with wide, trusting eyes. He toddled forward and pressed his small hand against my knee.

“Hannah?” he asked, worried.

“I’m fine, baby,” I lied. The lie felt useless.

Katerina has been my friend since college. We ate late-night noodles together. We shared notes. We shared secrets.

She’d been beside me when my father pushed the marriage. She’d watched me change from a rival to a wife.

Over the years she became more than a friend. I was Jacob’s second mother. I tucked him in, read him stories, and ran to school plays. I adored him like my own since Jacob’s father left them.

She wiped my face with one thumb. “Tell me everything.”

So I did. She listened quietly, her eyes steady. But betrayal always comes from the person you least expect.

One evening, I went home early from work. I missed her. I thought maybe I’d sleep over at her place like before. Her door was unlocked. I stepped in quietly, planning to surprise her.

Then I froze. Voices came from the hallway.

Katerina’s voice—shaky but familiar. “You should go home soon. She’s coming here. If you want us to get caught, then stay. I’m tired of hiding, of hiding Jacob. When will you make us legal?”

My stomach dropped.

Dominic’s voice followed, calm and low. “Soon. I just need time. You know how important this is. Once it’s settled, I’ll fix everything. You and Jacob will have my name… and I will dispose of her and her father.”

Katerina sighed. “You’ve been saying that for months. I can’t keep pretending. Jacob is growing, he needs a father.”

He chuckled softly. “Patience, love. She’ll find out soon enough. Then we won’t have to hide anymore.”

Her voice rose, sharp now. “She’s pathetic! She doesn’t even realize how long we’ve been cheating, how we’ve been hiding everything from her!”

I froze. Every friendly laugh, every shoulder I leaned on, every shared moment—it was all a lie. All of it.

I couldn’t stay. I left, silent. No one to turn to. No home left.

Back in my car, I drove straight to the pier—the place where Dominic once promised forever. The air was cold, the waves restless.

I pulled off my ring, stared at it one last time—at everything it had meant, every lie it carried. My hand trembled, but I didn’t hesitate.

With one deep breath, I threw it into the sea. The ring disappeared beneath the waves, swallowed whole.

Then, shaking but resolute, I pulled out my phone.

“Adrian,” I said quietly. “Pick me up. Let’s get married.”

The wind stung my face, but for the first time in a long while, I felt free.