There was a rhythmic tap of fingers on a desk from the other end.

“What exactly does Nadine James want from me?” Jacob asked.

I glanced down at my hands, dry and cracked from the cold. They throbbed and itched like they carried more than they could hold.

I let out a bitter little smile and finally said, “I want you to bankrupt my husband. And then... help me get a divorce.”

“You want a divorce?”

That voice, Russell’s, suddenly rang out behind me.

I jumped, my heart slamming against my ribs. Panicked, I quickly ended the call, my fingers trembling.

I hesitated, remaining speechless.

He walked closer. “If that’s what you want, fine. I’ll give it to you. Our marriage was always business. No love. Better this way.”

A cold shiver crawled down my spine. So that’s all I was to him.

Just a transaction.

“Wait,” I said, turning to leave.

He grabbed my arm.

His voice remained flat and cold as he said, "Can you give the charm necklace to Claudia?"

That charm necklace, crafted by the city’s finest goldsmith on my birthday, was a cherished gift from my parents. It held immense significance.

He didn't even glance at me when he continued, “Claudia likes it. Just give it to her.”

'Claudia likes it? Seriously?'

Just because she liked it, he thought it was fine to give away something I’d cherished for over twenty years. He didn't even give me any space to say no.

Just like the other day, when Claudia casually mentioned that she liked my most renowned painting, he just took all my artwork away and gave it to her.

Even though he knew damn well, she only wanted to destroy them.

I closed my eyes for a second, turned away, and said, “I’ll have someone bring it to you later.”

Then I walked off without even a glance back.

He had no idea that once I got those paintings back, I was gone for good.

No more looking back.

...

That night, I didn’t go back to that house, not that I could call it home anymore.

I holed up in my studio instead, throwing everything I had into my work. Every stroke of my brush was rage, every splash of paint a scream I couldn’t let out. I stayed at it for hours, until the room smelled like turpentine and the air felt thick with fury.

Around 3 a.m., my phone rang.

It was Russell.

His voice was curt, flat. “Come home. Now.”

He never called me at that time. Not unless something serious had happened.

I hesitated. Should’ve ignored it. Should’ve stayed where I was.

But I didn’t.

I grabbed my coat, flagged down a cab, and headed back.

The second I stepped through the door, I barely had time to blink.

A slap cracked across my face, so hard it made the room spin. My cheek lit up in pain, heat flooding my skin. I reached up in shock, barely understanding what had just happened.

Then a sharp kick landed behind my knee. It knocked my legs right out from under me. I collapsed hard, knees smashing into the cold tile. Pain ripped through me like glass splintering in my bones.

And it wasn’t even Russell who hit me.

It was his bodyguard.

I blinked through tears, my vision blurred, my breath catching in my throat. I looked up at Russell, hoping—stupidly—that maybe he’d be angry at what just happened. But he just stood there.

Expressionless. Like I didn’t mean anything.

Then, Claudia crouched down in front of me, playing the concerned little sister, eyes wide and full of fake sympathy. She held up the broken charm necklace like it was evidence in a murder trial.

“Oh, my sweet sister,” she said, all soft and pitiful. “How could you tamper with the lock? I nearly got cut.”

I forced myself to sit up, steadying my hands on the floor, my face throbbing. I met Russell’s eyes. “You dragged me back just for this?”

He didn’t answer right away—just a pause.

Then Russell said it, voice as cold as ever. “I’ve never treated you badly, Nadine. But jealousy doesn’t give you the right to give her a damaged necklace.”

And as if that wasn’t enough, he added, “Kneel and apologize. Three times. Then I’ll pretend none of this happened.”

I blinked, trying to process it.

'Kneel. Apologize. Pretend none of it happened?'

I laughed, but only in my head.

That necklace had been mine since birth. It was a gift from my parents, a symbol of love, protection, and family. Claudia asked for it. She broke it and smiled while doing it.

Only Claudia and I knew the truth about that.

I sat up straighter, cheek still stinging, knees bruised and aching. But my voice didn’t shake.

“I won’t.”

I still had my pride. It was all I had left.

And I wasn’t about to give that up, too.

Russell stared at me, like I was being ridiculous. Like I was the one out of line.

“You’re not a child anymore,” he said, voice low and firm. “Don’t be so willful. We still have to live together.”

I actually laughed out loud that time.

'Willful?'

So saying no to Claudia made me the difficult one?

Since her return, she has taken everything.

My room. My things. My boyfriend. Then my husband.

And I said nothing.

I kept my mouth shut, convinced that if I stayed quiet long enough, maybe Russell would notice it. That perhaps he'd truly recognise the kind of woman Claudia was.

And now here he was, siding with her—the one person closest to me in the world—calling me willful, when all along, I had suffered the most.

My chest felt tight, like my heart had been pickled in acid—every beat hurt.

I didn’t say anything. Just stared at him.

He frowned, clearly annoyed, then turned and scooped Claudia up in his arms like she might break without him.

“You nearly hurt Claudia with your petty tricks and won’t even apologize,” he said. “I really misjudged you.”

Then he turned to the bodyguard.

“If she won’t admit her fault, beat her until she does.”

And just like that, like we were discussing dinner plans, he added, “Claudia’s birthday party is tomorrow. She needs to look perfect. No marks.”

His voice was cold and detached. It was nothing like the man who used to whisper sweet things to me in the dark, holding me close like I mattered.

This was the first time he’d ever treated me like this.

The beating started fast. No warning. No buildup.

Just blows. Fists. Kicks. Each hit landed hard, precise, like this was routine for them.

I curled up, hands over my head, trying to protect something—anything—but it didn’t help. My body screamed in pain, every nerve raw.

Upstairs, I could hear them. Laughing. Talking. Like nothing was happening below their feet.

I don’t know how long it went on. At some point, I stopped feeling the floor. Stopped feeling my hands. Stopped feeling like a person.

Eventually, it ended.

They’d followed Russell’s orders perfectly. No bruises on the outside. Nothing anyone would see.

But inside? I felt wrecked. Shattered.

I couldn’t move. Couldn’t speak.

So I stayed there on that freezing tile floor.

All night.

...

The next morning, I came to in a bed, an IV stuck in my hand.

Everything ached. My body felt like it had been through a meat grinder, but I forced myself upright anyway. Every movement lit up with pain, but I wasn’t about to lie there helpless.

I stepped out of the room, one slow foot in front of the other, trying to steady my breathing.

That’s when I heard them.

Russell and Claudia.

Her voice floated down the hallway, sweet and smug like sugar gone sour. “Russell, why’d you help her? Wouldn’t it be better if she just stayed on the floor?”

And his answer?

“Be good. I won’t let anything ruin your birthday party tonight. After that, I’ll make her leave. This house will be ours, okay?”

I froze.

Those words hit me like a sucker punch to the gut. Each one was sharp enough to cut.

I took a shaky step back, then another. My hand gripped the wall for balance. My legs barely held me up. I shut my eyes tight and turned around, heading straight back to that bed.

Of course.

They were the real couple—the perfect match.

And I? I was just the placeholder. The mistake. The idiot who thought she’d married a man who would protect her and love her back.

But it was never going to be me.

If they wanted me gone so badly...

Then fine.

After tonight, I’d give them exactly what they wanted.

I spent the whole day just trying to push through the pain. By the time I showed up at Claudia’s birthday party, I felt like I’d been hit by a truck and then asked to smile through it.

She, on the other hand, looked like she’d stepped off a red carpet, dripping in diamonds, wrapped in a custom designer gown that shimmered under every light. She had that effortless glow, like someone who’d never had to fight for anything.

Me? I walked in wearing a plain white dress. No lace. No sparkle. Nothing that turned heads.

The moment I stepped through the door, the whispers started.

“Is that Nadine James? The one who pretended to be Claudia for over twenty years?” a middle-aged woman said, eyeing me openly. “She looks awful. Doesn’t carry herself like a lady at all.”

The woman next to her nodded. “Yeah, the fake heiress. What kind of class could she really have? The Jameses are just being polite, not kicking her out.”

“I heard she refused to leave,” the first one added with a scoff. “They even made her their goddaughter. Honestly, it’s pathetic.”

The other one shrugged. “Still… I don’t know. She has that soft, quiet thing going on. Some people are into that.”

They didn’t even lower their voices. Like I wasn’t standing right there. Like I didn’t exist.

Then, they laughed, insulting me openly without any consideration. It made me feel sick, but I didn’t flinch. Not this time.

At that moment, Claudia entered as if she were the star of the show—graceful, skilled, flawless. She glided over to me, beaming, and intertwined her arm with mine as if we were close friends.

“Wow, sis, you look stunning tonight,” she said, voice sweet as sugar.

I forced a smile. “I remember that gown. It was Sir Andrei Monet’s final masterpiece.”

She lit up, twirling like a kid showing off a new toy. “Yes! Russell got it for me specially. Isn’t it beautiful?”

I felt a cold little flicker spark behind my eyes.

“It is,” I said, slowly and carefully. “But Sir Andrei’s last piece was bought by the British royal family. The Princess wore it just a few days ago. And yet, this one of yours...”

I let it hang there. Didn’t need to finish the sentence. Everyone in the room understood what I meant.

Fake.

Claudia’s face flushed, then went pale. That flawless composure cracked for a second.

For the first time in a long time, I felt a little of myself coming back. Not the version they’d beaten down.

The real me—the one with a spine.

But then, Russell’s voice cut through everything. “I personally flew to the UK to borrow it for Claudia. Got a problem with that?”

I turned to face him. His stare was blank, unreadable.

Then, Claudia clung to his arm with that same smug little smile.

“That’s right, Nadine,” she said. “Don’t speak on things you don’t understand. Like Russell would ever let me wear a fake.”

And just like that, the attention snapped right back to me.

People stared, eyes glinting, and the murmurs flared up again:

“Aren’t they claiming she’s an art student? She can't even differentiate between fake and genuine. How embarrassing!”

“She’s just out here chasing attention. But wow, Russell really did go to the UK?”

“Her degree’s probably fake too. Planning some art exhibit? Who’s even gonna go?”

Amid the murmurs, I stayed quiet.

'So Russell could treat someone that well, even over a dress?' I let out a dry laugh and started to turn away.

Then a calm voice called out behind me. “Excuse me, but didn’t the British Princess wear a light blue dress? Why is Miss Claudia’s dress white, though?”

Heads turned toward the voice. A man with gold-rimmed glasses stepped forward, a soft smile playing on his face as he came to stand beside me like he belonged there.

“I wasn’t aware Sir Andrei’s final design came in his least favorite color—white," Jacob retorted.

Claudia’s face went sheet-white. She grabbed Russell’s arm like she was drowning.

“Russell, what’s going on? Say something!”

Russell's face darkened, and after a beat, he said under his breath, “Claudia, I’ll explain later.”

She stomped her foot and rushed out of the room, humiliated.

I raised an eyebrow at Russell. “Your Claudia just stormed out. Not going after her?”

He didn’t say a word. He quickly took my arm and pulled me away from Jacob’s side, acting as if he were worried.

“That son-of-a-bitch's a trouble, Nadine. Don’t forget, you’re still a married woman. Stay away from him," Russell warned me.

Then he turned and ran after Claudia. Not even a glance back.

The crowd started to thin out. The noise dulled.

My smile faded, replaced by something colder.

I watched him go, my chest going tight and frozen. Now he remembers I’m married.

Has it ever crossed his mind that he’s married, too?

He’s telling me to steer clear of Jacob, but he’s sneaking off with Claudia into gardens like I don’t even exist.

While I was standing there thinking that, Jacob spoke again casually, “Since Russell took over Fraizer Group, it’s been one financial crisis after another. Even without my help, the company won’t last. But if you say the word, I can take them down tonight.”

I met his eyes, grateful, and gave him a small smile. I could already see the look on Russell and Claudia’s faces when the walls started caving in.

Then Jacob handed me a stack of papers.

With a soft laugh and eyes that sparkled, he said, “Didn’t you say you wanted a divorce? Have him sign these tomorrow, and I’ll make sure Fraizer Group collapses by sunset.”

...

I didn’t go home. I went back to the hotel.

When I opened my phone, there it was.

Claudia’s latest post:

[You're the only one who can calm me down and make me feel safe in this world.]

The image featured two clasped hands, with her finger glimmering from a large diamond ring.

While scrolling through the comments, I noticed Russell's remark:

[As long as you’re happy, I’ll do anything for you.]

I scoffed, shut my phone, and then closed my eyes.

...

By the time I opened them again, morning had already come.

The first thing I did was find Russell to sign the divorce papers. While I was at it, I threw out everything that was mine.

Without a moment's hesitation, I threw all my favorite dresses in garbage bags.

Russell took notice. He looked surprised, knowing how much I used to care about those dresses. After all, he had given them to me himself, back when they still meant something.

He asked, his voice low and cautious, “Why are you throwing those out? Don’t like them anymore? I can get you new ones—”

“No need,” I said quietly, offering a small smile. “I don’t need useless things anymore.”

He stood there frozen. His fingers curled slightly, like he didn’t know what to do with himself.

Just as I tossed the last dress into a bag, Russell spoke up again. “Still upset about yesterday? Like I said, Claudia was only mad at Jacob for humiliating her in front of everyone. We were just backing her up as family. But you? You sided with the outsiders and made things worse. I can’t believe you. And do you genuinely believe it's right to side with that jerk instead of your own sister?”

I let out a dry breath and narrowed my eyes. 'Here we go again. Always making me the bad one. Always comparing me to her.'

So I reached for the divorce papers and handed them to him.

Russell didn’t even glance at them and just snatched them from my hand. “What now? Nadine, you’re not a child. You don’t know business. You don’t understand investments. What’s the point of this little show?”

Still, he grabbed a pen and scribbled his name down without looking. Then he flung the papers back at me.

The corner of one sheet caught my cheek—a sharp sting, followed by blood.

His eyes narrowed. He reached into his pocket, probably for something to help. But all he found was the handkerchief Claudia gave him.

Russell paused for a beat, then shoved it back like it didn’t matter. “You brought this on yourself. Let this be a warning. After this, I’ll give you money, and you stay the hell away from Claudia. Got it?”

Still, I stayed quiet.

Right then, he probably realized he sounded pretty harsh because his tone softened right away. “You’re Claudia’s big sister. You should step aside for her. Even if you’re not the real James' daughter, don’t bring your country ways into this house.”

The air turned to stone. It stretched on in silence, long enough to press into my bones.

Then I glanced up at him and offered a small smile. “Okay.”

That one word meant I wouldn’t chase after Claudia anymore.

I was done. I was leaving.

After hearing his curt reply, he turned on his heel and walked away. No second glance, no hesitation.

The smile that had been teasing my lips disappeared. I looked down at the silver necklace he had given me on our wedding day. Back then, I was naive enough to treasure that simple little chain, like it actually meant something, just a tiny symbol of care, however small.

Now? He could walk away without blinking and spoil Claudia with diamonds worth a hundred million.

I picked up the necklace and tossed it into the trash bag along with everything else I used to feel for him.

Holding the divorce papers in my hand, I smiled.

This time, it wasn’t for show. It was real.

From here on out, I wouldn’t have to see either of them again.

I stepped out of the villa, that place that never once felt like mine.

As I pulled out my phone to call a cab, one came into view in the distance. I waved it down.

The engine started roaring louder.

Then my eyes went wide.

The car wasn’t stopping. It was speeding right at me.

My body flew through the air like a ragdoll, slamming into the pavement right at the villa’s entrance. Blood soaked my clothes. Everything hurt—burning, stabbing, screaming pain in every inch of me.

I tried to lift my head through the haze.

Behind the glass, I saw Russell’s silhouette.

I wanted to scream. I tried to call out and beg for help.

But no sound came out. Just tears, hot and bitter, rolling down my face.

Then I saw her. Claudia walked over, slipped her arms around him, and kissed him like she had all the time in the world.

She turned him away from me.

Russell’s breathing got heavier. His hands started pulling at her clothes, right there, up against the window.

Before I passed out, I caught one last thing.

Claudia looked at me. Smiled.

“My dear sweet sister, rest well,” she mouthed.

...

When I woke up, I couldn’t move. It felt like I’d been hit by a freight train.

I stared up at the white hospital ceiling, barely able to breathe, but somehow just glad to still be alive.

A nurse caught sight of me and nearly dropped her clipboard. She rushed out to grab the doctor.

When he came in, I found out I’d been unconscious for a week. They said I’d been in critical condition when they brought me in. Bruises everywhere. Several broken bones.

And in all that time, not a single message.

Not one from the man I was still married to.

I didn’t say much. Just asked, “Where’s my divorce agreement?”

The nurse hesitated, then handed over a copy.

It was stained with blood.

I ran my fingers along the dark bloodstains on it.

That was all the proof I needed for my dead, numb heart.

After the doctor gave me his rundown and was about to say more, shouting broke out in the hallway.

“If you don’t admit Claudia, I’ll make sure this hospital goes bankrupt!!” a voice thundered.

My body tensed. I leaned on the crutches beside my bed and peeked out.

There he was. Russell. Holding Claudia like she was made of glass.

She looked fine. Flushed and glowing, not a scratch on her.

The doctor sounded nervous. “Sir, she only has a minor burn on her hand. It’ll heal fast. She doesn't need to be hospitalized.”

Russell shot him a look that shut him right up.

Then, suddenly, he looked up and locked eyes with me.

His brow furrowed. “What are you doing here? You’re injured?”

He looked like he might come closer, but then he remembered Claudia was in his arms.

Instead of letting her go, he walked straight over.

Still holding her, he said, “Give your bed to Claudia. Name your price.”

He didn’t even ask how I felt, and didn’t suggest. Russell just picked her up and laid her down in my hospital bed like I didn’t exist.

Still pretending to care, Claudia whispered, “Russell, my sister appears to be more injured than I am."

Russell just patted her head like she was a child. “She’s faking. Ignore her. You’re the one who matters most to me.”

In bitter pain, I laughed, even though my ribs screamed in protest.

'What was my pathetic marriage worth, really?' I couldn't help but ask myself.

Right then, I hated myself for marrying him at all.

I turned and limped out of the room—blank expression, heart hollow.

“No need. I’ll give you the bed,” I told the nurse.

Let Claudia have it. She could take the bed, the pity, the man.

She already had all of it, anyway.

...

My phone was loaded with missed calls from Jacob, but I let them sit.

When I finally called him back, he picked up right away.

“I’ve been abroad. What’s happening on your side? Did you get the divorce yet?”

I knew what he meant. Once the divorce was final, he’d move in on Russell without mercy.

But I stayed calm. “No rush. Let the bullets fly for a while.”

I wanted to handle this my way. Pay back what I owe on my terms.

I rested quietly, relieved that I hadn’t injured my fingers. Otherwise, I’d never be able to paint again.

Then one day, Russell finally took me off his blacklist and messaged me. “Claudia’s trying on wedding dresses. As her elder sister, don’t you feel responsible? Get here now.”

My leg wasn’t fully healed yet. I could barely get around with a wheelchair, and crutches weren’t much better.

I wanted to say no. Really did.

But before I could type a single word, he hung up.

When I tried calling Russell back, I found out he blocked me again.

I let out a short laugh.

Fine. They want me there?

Since they want me to show up so badly, I’m gonna make them regret ever asking.