Levi didn’t say a word when he entered my hospital room. His face was drawn, pale, eyes trembling with something heavier than grief.

He placed a thick envelope on my lap.

“Read it,” he said.

My fingers trembled as I opened it—photocopies, scanned documents, a passport, old articles, bank statements, photos. Too many. My eyes couldn’t focus on one without the next stabbing me.

Levi exhaled shakily. “Ysobel… Jaxon isn’t who he says he is.”

My throat tightened. “Levi, stop.”

“He’s the son of a wealthy industrialist in Asteria,” Levi continued, voice low but merciless. “He ran away from that life because of gambling debts. Serious ones. Mafia-level. His father sent him here to ‘fix his mistakes’—but he could only return if he paid everything back.”

A ringing filled my ears.

“He needed money,” Levi went on. “Real money. So he found you.”

I froze. “What are you saying… ‘found’ me? When the yacht I was on sank four years ago—are you saying that wasn’t an accident?”

Levi didn’t flinch. “He hired someone to sabotage it. Made sure he was close enough to jump in. He saved you… because he planned it. He approached you on purpose, made you fall for him, and when you married him—”

“No…” My breathing hitched. “No, Levi, that’s insane—”

“—he started embezzling the company funds.” Levi pushed the next set of papers toward me. “And here… Candice’s contract. He told her to apply. You hired his real wife as your secretary.”

The room tilted. My stomach churned violently, bile rising in my throat.

“Ysobel?” Levi stood quickly. “Sit down—”

But I was already sliding off the bed, running to the bathroom, the nausea tearing through me. I threw up until there was nothing left, until my tears blurred everything.

I clutched the sink, shaking.

He planned it. All of it. Even the moment I fell in love with him… it wasn’t real.

But my mind—cruel as it was—dragged me back to the moments I once held like treasures.

“I’ll protect you,” he whispered once, brushing my hair away as we lay on the beach. The moonlight made him look impossibly gentle.

“From what?” I laughed.

“From everything,” he answered, kissing my forehead. “You’re safe with me. Always.”

The mornings he cooked breakfast. The nights he held me because I couldn’t sleep.

The way he looked at me and said, “One day, we’ll have our own little family.”

Lies. All of it.

Because right now, I can finally see what I refused to before. Candice’s perfume lingering on his coat—he said she hugged him because she was emotional.

Her lipstick on his collar—he laughed, said she tripped and he helped her up.

Her late-night calls—he told me work never sleeps.

And I believed him. God, I believed every word.

I thought the breakfasts meant love.

I thought the way he tucked the blanket around me meant care.

I thought the way he whispered, “You’re my future,” meant something real.

Lies. All of it.

When I finally calm, I looked at Levi with hollow eyes.

“There’s no need for divorce, right?” I whispered. “Our marriage… is invalid.”

Levi nodded slowly. “Yes.”

I closed my eyes. My mother's ashes weren’t even cold when I married Jaxon. The company she left me—my last promise to her before she died of an illness—I had handed it over to a stranger wearing the face of a hero, so my father got mad at me and decided to disown me.

“Then I just have to investigate the company,” I said quietly. “See what’s left.”

Levi didn’t answer. He didn’t need to.

Two days later. I expected peace. I got devastation.

“Miss Ysobel,” my finance manager stammered the moment I stepped into the office. “I’m so sorry, but… we’re losing money. A lot. Mr. Rivas made several unauthorized transfers. And the investors he brought in—most of them don’t exist.”

My knees buckled.

Levi caught me before I hit the floor. I couldn’t breathe.

The company my mother built with her blood and youth—the company she handed to me—was being hollowed out from the inside.

By the man I loved.

No. By the man I thought I loved.

My voice trembled. “Call the board.”

When they gathered, I stood as straight as I could.

“Effective immediately,” I said, my voice cold, “fire Candice Montenegro. And postpone every contract, investment, and deal Jaxon handled until further notice.”

They exchanged shocked looks.

But they obeyed.

For the first time in years… I felt like I had control again. Until the door crashed open so violently the walls shook.

“What the hell is the meaning of this!?” Jaxon stormed in, eyes blazing, composure gone. “Why did you fire Candice?! Why am I being removed from all meetings?!”

“What the hell is the meaning of this!?” Jaxon’s voice crashed through the room like a blade, sharp enough to cut through the silence.

He stormed inside with Candice tailing behind him, pretending to be terrified, her eyes glossy, chin trembling, hands folded together like she was the victim.

I didn’t flinch. Not anymore.

“I asked you a question,” he barked, slamming his palm onto the long mahogany table. “Why did you fire Candice? And why the hell am I being removed from all meetings?”

I rose slowly from my seat, back straight, fingers laced calmly in front of me.

“I fired her,” I said evenly, “because she’s incompetent, unnecessary, and only got hired because you insisted I should give her a chance. And as for the meetings…” I tilted my head. “I simply don’t feel like giving everything to you anymore.”

Jaxon blinked, stunned for half a second—but recovered with anger. “So you make decisions like this without discussing it with me?”

“I don’t need to discuss anything with you,” I answered. “This is my company. I’m the owner.”

A muscle in his jaw twitched. “That doesn’t mean you get to—”

I cut him off, stepping closer. “You’ve handled enough. And badly.”

Candice whimpered behind him. “Ma’am… if I did something wrong, please let me expla—”

“Stay out of this,” I snapped. Her lips trembled.

Jaxon took a threatening step forward. “Ysobel, you’re being irrational. You can’t just fire people out of spite!”

“Spite?” My laugh came out cold. “You think this is spite? After all the mess you’ve created?”

His nostrils flared. “This is nonsense! I am your husband!”

My voice sharpened. “What’s nonsense is how you still think you can control me just because you are my husband.”

For a moment—just one—fear flickered in his eyes. Because he knew. He knew I was slipping out of his grasp.

“You’re not firing her!” he shouted. “I said NO!”

My voice was icy. “I already did. Effective immediately.”

He slapped the wall beside my head, close enough for the air to sting. “You’re pushing me too far, Ysobel.”

I met his eyes without blinking. “Good.”

His breath hitched. He realized something had changed. Something he couldn’t undo.

Finally, he exhaled sharply and stepped back, forcing his expression into something softer, something resembling resignation.

“Fine,” he muttered. “You win. We’ll… do things your way. For now.”

Candice lowered her head, pretending to wipe tears. “Ma’am… I’ll prepare my things. Thank you for everything and I’m sorry if I ever do something to make you mad.”

I ignored her.

Jaxon placed a hand on my shoulder, voice suddenly gentle—too gentle. “Let’s calm down and deal with this later, okay? For now… I’ll accept your decision.”

But something was off. He was agreeing too quickly. And that terrified me more than his anger.

An hour later, I left my office… only to freeze behind the hallway corner.

I inched closer.

Candice’s voice was sharp. “So what now? I lost my job. You let her win—again? How can you just agree?”

Jaxon sighed. “Calm down. I can’t argue with her knowing I still don’t have full control of the company. I need to be on her good side, so we should just play along until everything is finalized. You know that!”

Candice’s breath hitched. “Play along? How much longer?”

“As long as needed.” His tone dropped into something cold, calculating. “Listen. She’s firing you because she wants to feel in control. So let her. We’ll follow her plan for now.”

A pause.

“Because on her birthday,” he continued, voice dipped in venom, “we end it. No more investors. No more pretending. Her life ends that night, and then everything becomes ours.”

Candice gasped softly. “Are you sure?”

“Especially since you’re pregnant with our baby,” Jaxon replied. “I won’t let her hurt you or our child again.”

My lungs froze. It felt like my soul detached itself from my body and watched my life crumble piece by piece.

He wasn’t just using me. He wasn’t just cheating on me. He was plotting to kill me on my birthday.

I backed away quietly, swallowing a scream. My hands shook violently. I pressed them to my chest, forcing myself to breathe. Not now. Not here.

I have to stay alive. I have to act normal. I have to win.

When I returned to my suite that evening, Jaxon was waiting on the couch, his expression soft, almost affectionate.

I nearly laughed.

“There you are,” he said with a relieved exhale, standing up. “We need to talk.”

I didn't sit. “About what?”

He rubbed the back of his neck. “About Candice’s situation. You fired her… so I was thinking.”

I braced myself. He smiled—gentle, understanding, supportive. The same smile that once made me fall for him.

The same smile he used right before betraying me every time.

“…we can hire her as our maid,” he said.

My heart stopped.

“Our… what?” I whispered.

“She needs income,” he continued easily, as if discussing the weather. “And since you trust her less now, this way you can still see what she’s doing. And I can help her. It’s a win-win. You know she is a close friend with no relatives and I can’t just let her be alone with nothing.”

Win-win. For him and his mistress.

“Absolutely not,” I said immediately, my voice sharp. “I fired her. She’s not stepping foot in this house again.”

His smile faltered. “Ysobel—”

“No.” I turned away before the trembling in my chest could turn into screaming. “I’m tired, Jaxon. I don’t want to talk about this anymore.”

“Come on,” he called softly, following me as I headed to the bedroom. “You don’t have to be so emotional—”

“Goodnight,” I said, shutting the door before I could say something that would expose how much I knew… how much danger I was in.

I pressed my back against the door, exhaling shakily.

They wanted me dead on my birthday and now he wanted his mistress living in my house.

Over my dead body.

But the next morning, when sunlight hit my face and sleep loosened its grip—I sensed it immediately.

Someone else was in the room.

I shot up and froze.

Candice was kneeling beside my dresser, wiping it with a cloth, humming softly like she belonged there. She wore an apron. Hair tied. Head down.

She looked up with a smile that trembled. “Good morning, Ma’am.”

My heart dropped to my stomach. “What are you doing here?”

“Oh!” She stood quickly, bowing her head. “Jaxon told me you changed your mind and agreed to let me stay… as the maid.”

My blood turned to ice. “That’s a lie. I didn’t agree to anything.”

She wrung her hands nervously, eyes glossy with fake tears. “Ma’am, please… please let me stay. I need this job. I can do everything, I promise. I’m not picky. I can cook, clean, wash, iron, sew—anything. I just need somewhere to stay… even if you make me sleep in the storage room.”

I clenched my jaw. She was performing. Every trembling word is a calculated move.

“Get out,” I said coldly. “Before I change my mind about letting you walk out of this house.”

She flinched. “Please… give me a chance. I’ll show you!”

She darted forward, grabbing a glass spray bottle and a rag. “See? I clean very well. Look—look how shiny I can make it.”

She wiped the table too aggressively, desperate to prove her worth, moving with frantic energy. Then she rushed toward the shelf where my mother’s porcelain urn stood—a delicate hand-carved piece, white with gold trimming, the most precious thing I owned.

My breath hitched. “Don’t touch—”

“I can clean everything!” she insisted, dusting around it. “I’m very careful, Ma’am. I can—”

Her elbow hit it. The urn shook. Time slowed.

“Candice, stop—!”

But it was too late.

The urn teetered.

It fell.

It shattered on the floor.

Porcelain exploded into pieces.

And the ashes—my mother’s ashes—scattered across the marble like gray snow.