Kendall froze, momentarily caught off guard by my words. She stood there, her gaze flickering as if weighing my intent.

Blake’s brows furrowed, though his expression remained as unreadable as ever.

Seizing the chance, I silently slipped away from the kitchen, feeling a sense of liberation with each step I took.

The divorce agreement would take effect in a week, and I had only that precious time to pack my life and leave this place behind.

Back in the bedroom, I scrolled through rental listings on my phone, absorbed in my thoughts, when Blake’s voice cut through the air.

"I need to head to the company for a bit. Kendall will stay here, so you’ll take care of her."

I raised an eyebrow, the confusion creeping into my tone. "Am I now a housekeeper? Is she so helpless that she needs me to babysit her?"

I had always bowed to his commands without a second thought, but today, something had shifted in me. I found myself questioning him, challenging his authority with every word.

His face darkened, his voice dropping low and menacing. "Laura, don’t forget who’s been keeping you. You’re here because of me, and you’ll do as I say. Don’t push me."

I swallowed the bitter taste of my pride, nodding with reluctant compliance, the weight of his words pressing heavily on my chest.

Before leaving, Blake issued one last warning, his voice low and edged with authority. "Kendall’s young. You’re responsible for her while I’m gone. If anything happens, don’t think I’ll let you off easy."

With those words lingering in the air, Blake leaned down to kiss Kendall’s forehead, a tender, possessive gesture before he strode out, the sound of the door clicking shut reverberating in the silence.

Now, with only Kendall and me left in the living room, the atmosphere shifted. She slouched against the sofa, a mischievous smile tugging at her lips.

"I heard you’ve been married to Blake for five years," she said, her voice thick with amusement.

"Yes," I replied, my tone calm and measured, betraying nothing of the storm brewing inside me.

"But last night, he told me he’s never touched you!" Kendall’s posture shifted as she tossed her hair back, revealing the dark mark on her neck. "You must be twenty-six by now, still a virgin…" Her words hung in the air, sharp and probing.

She giggled, swaying gracefully like a delicate flower, before continuing, "You must’ve heard us last night, right? Blake is such a tease. He made sure you could hear everything from the next room. Oh, and I almost forgot, you’ve never experienced a man, have you? Especially someone as strong as Blake."

Her laughter was almost too much to bear. "What a shame. At your age, I doubt anyone would touch you, except for maybe you chasing after them, right?"

I furrowed my brows, disbelief creeping into my thoughts. I hadn’t expected Blake’s hidden rose to speak with such venom.

Calmly, I answered, "Everyone lives their life differently. I don’t base my existence on any man."

Kendall’s laughter stopped abruptly, replaced by a sneer. "A woman who’s been living off a man, playing housewife for five years, probably has no room to talk, huh?"

I chose not to engage further, sitting down on the opposite end of the sofa as I continued my search for a place to rent.

Kendall couldn’t stand the sight of me remaining so calm and composed. It didn’t take long for her to start pushing my buttons, trying to boss me around.

The last time, she complained that the coffee I made was too cold and demanded I pour boiling water to fix it. Then, with the slyest of smiles, she pretended to spill it—most of the water splashed onto me while just a few drops landed on her wrist.

Her cry echoed through the room, sharp and dramatic.

"Blake, it hurts so much..."

By the time Blake rushed in, his face twisted in alarm, Kendall was already in full meltdown mode.

She showed him the small burn on her wrist, and he fussed over it for a moment before turning to me, his anger flaring.

With a forceful slap, he sent me crashing to the ground.

"Didn’t I tell you to take care of Kendall? Is this how you do it?!"

His voice was cold with fury. "If even the smallest mark appears on her, I’ll make sure you suffer ten times worse."

Without another word, Blake grabbed Kendall and rushed her off to the hospital, leaving me kneeling on the floor.

I lifted my nightgown, the red welts on my thighs already burning with the sting of the water.

I lowered my gaze, the world before me slipping into a haze. Large, hot tears splashed onto my swollen knees.

The pain from the wound was sharp, but it barely scratched the surface compared to the ache in my heart.

I hailed a taxi, the loneliness in the backseat a cruel reminder of what I was leaving behind.

As the doctor tended to my injury, she muttered about the patient in the next room, her tone dripping with sarcasm.

"These girls today are just so spoiled," she sighed. "A tiny burn, barely the size of a fingernail, and her boyfriend called the director. He threatened to shut down the whole hospital if she got a scar..."

She paused, a wistful tone taking over. "You don’t get it. That’s what it means to be loved. I envy her. She has it all—handsome, rich, devoted. She’s got a man who’d do anything for her..."

I stared down at the grotesque burn on my thigh, an involuntary sneer twisting my lips.

Blake was indeed the perfect man from the outside—handsome, wealthy, and all-consuming. But what did it all mean without love?

After the doctor finished, I sat on a bench outside the ward, trying to steady myself, lost in thought.

Then, Blake and Kendall appeared, walking toward me.

When Blake saw the bandages on my leg, his frown deepened.

"You got hurt too? Why didn’t you say anything?"

Before I could answer, he continued, his tone judgmental. "Well, that’s your fault. You can’t even carry a cup of water properly. Luckily, Kendall didn’t get hurt. Otherwise..."

Blake, ever the picture of cold indifference, stood there, his arms wrapped tightly around Kendall.

Kendall leaned sweetly into him, her voice soft with feigned innocence. "Don’t blame her, Blake. It’s my fault. I shouldn’t have been so selfish, asking her to take care of me..."

Blake’s arms tightened around Kendall protectively as if he were shielding her from any harm.

"Don’t be silly. I’ve raised her for five years. Even if you treat her like a servant, it’s still your responsibility."

"As long as you’re happy, you can make her do anything," Kendall added, her voice dripping with sweetness.

With that, they left, walking off as if nothing had happened.

Not once did Blake care to ask about my injury, never once sparing a thought for the pain I was in.

I lowered my head, my limbs too weak to move. I tried a few times, but I couldn’t find the strength to walk.

"Miss, would you like me to contact your husband?" the nurse asked gently, her voice full of concern.

I watched them disappear down the hallway, and a bitter smile curled on my lips.

"No. We’ll be divorced soon," I murmured, my voice barely audible.

A week passed, and still no sign of Blake.

He had taken Kendall to New York, leaving me behind in this empty villa.

Each day, Kendall sent me photos—pictures of them embracing beneath the Statue of Liberty, kissing amid the bustling crowd of Times Square, kneeling before a sky ablaze with fireworks.

There were too many to count.

The final night before the five-year mark, I hid beneath the covers, alone in the vast emptiness of the villa.

I flipped through the photos, my hands trembling, each image a sharp reminder of the love I would never have.

By the time I reached the last one, my tears fell uncontrollably, slipping through my fingers like sand.

That night, I finally pulled away the light that had once warmed me, casting me into a cold, unfamiliar darkness.

When the divorce agreement took effect, Blake still hadn’t returned home.

I never got the chance to say a proper goodbye.

With a heavy heart, I packed up everything that was mine, placing the divorce agreement neatly on the coffee table.

I took one last, lingering glance at the villa that had held me captive for five years, its walls now nothing more than cold memories, before walking away without a single look back.

From that moment on, I would be free.

A free soul, no longer shackled by the chains of anyone or anything.

It was half a month later when Blake called, just as I was holding an invitation from the renowned designer Solomon Jennings.

For five long years, Blake never let me step beyond the walls of the villa. Trapped in my gilded cage, I poured my soul into sketching jewelry designs.

During that time, I collaborated on several occasions with Solomon’s studio, and a few pieces from their latest collection bore my signature touch.

Over the years, Solomon had extended countless invitations for me to join his team, but bound by my contract with Blake, I had always declined.

This time, when the offer came, I finally said yes.

The phone rang not long after, and Blake’s icy tone cut through the line.

"Where are you?"

His voice dripped with entitlement. "Didn’t I make myself clear? I don’t want my wife parading around for everyone to see. Get back here. Kendall is moving into the villa, and you’re supposed to take care of her."

Take care of her?

I let out a dry laugh and replied as coolly as ever. "What’s the matter, Blake? Did Kendall lose her hands or her legs? Or is the great Wilson family suddenly too poor to hire a nanny?"

Blake’s fury crackled through the phone like a storm.

"Who gave you the right to talk to me like that?" His voice was sharp, brimming with contempt. "Get back here right now, or I’ll freeze your card! Let’s see how long you last in Seattle without me!"

The call ended abruptly, his anger lingering in the silence.

I couldn’t help but chuckle as I tossed my phone onto the couch. His threats, once suffocating, now felt almost laughable.

Riker Brown, my brother and confidant, picked up my phone and glanced at the screen, his frown deepening. "Have you made up your mind? Once the divorce is final, there’s no turning back."

He paused, his tone softening. "Are you really okay with that?"

Over the years, Riker had been my rock, the only person I could trust with the truths I didn’t dare admit to anyone else. Even the hidden feelings I had buried deep in my heart were no secret to him.

Just then, my phone buzzed with a new message. I hesitated before checking it, and there it was, another photo from Kendall.

In the picture, Blake was on one knee, his smile radiant as he slipped a dazzling diamond ring onto Kendall’s finger. Her laughter, frozen in time, seemed to mock me.

The image hit me like a punch to the chest. My heart, long numbed by years of neglect, suddenly felt as if it had been shattered into a thousand pieces. Each jagged edge tore at me, making every breath feel like a struggle.

For five long years, I had waited—waited for something I never dared to hope for. Yet, with nothing more than a flick of her finger, she had it all handed to her on a silver platter.

“At peace with it,” I murmured, shutting off my phone as a hollow smile tugged at my lips.

This was nothing new. I had anticipated it all along.

From the very beginning, I had known what this was, a transaction, plain and simple.

Time and money exchanged like currency, and with the contract finally reaching its end, it was my turn to walk away.

The next day, Blake called relentlessly. I watched his name flash on my screen over and over but didn’t answer even once.

When his calls were met with silence, his anger came through in a text instead.

[If you don’t come back now, then don’t bother coming back at all!]

I almost laughed at the irony. My fingers hovered over the keyboard, ready to remind him to read the divorce agreement waiting neatly on the coffee table, but before I could send anything, another message appeared, this time from Kendall.

The photo loaded slowly, but the moment it appeared, it was like a slap to the face. There she was, draped in a pristine white wedding dress, her radiant smile glowing as she leaned into Blake’s arms. The pictures kept coming, photo after photo of their apparent happiness.

Wedding photos.

My chest tightened, but I forced myself to scroll through the messages that followed.

[We’re already preparing for the wedding. So when is the intruder planning to leave the Wilson family?]

[If you behave yourself, maybe I’ll even let you attend the wedding. Wouldn’t that be fun?]

[Jealous, aren’t you? He never even thought about planning a wedding for you. But the moment I mentioned it, he couldn’t wait to make it happen.]

Each word cut deeper than the last. My hands trembled, and with every message, the pain buried deep within me surfaced like a tidal wave. I couldn’t take any more.

Without reading the rest, I blocked her number and set the phone down.

After doing that, I opened my email and finally replied to Solomon, confirming the time to join his studio.

October 23rd.

The day Blake and Kendall tied the knot.

He embraced his happiness with open arms, while I silently vowed to vanish from his world forever.