The sting came first.

A sharp, burning slap across my cheek. My head jerked to the side, a gasp stuck in my throat as my vision blurred from the force of it. My body froze, every nerve screaming at once.

Did Adrian just hit me?

I touched my cheek, the heat radiating from where his hand had landed. Slowly, I looked up at him—my husband. The man I had once loved with every piece of myself.

His voice was cold, devoid of any remorse. “You know that’s the only thing you’re useful for, Cassia. And yet you still won’t do it.”

Then he shoved me. My knees buckled as I caught myself on the arm of the couch, the room spinning around me.

And just like that, he turned his back on me.

“We’ll eat out,” he told her—Talia—like I wasn’t even there.

She followed him quietly, with just a hint of a smirk on her lips. Not pity. Not guilt. Satisfaction.

And they walked out.

Leaving me behind in the silence of a home I no longer recognized.

---

How did we get here?

Just hours ago, I was folding laundry, trying to pretend we were still okay.

Then he said it, casually, as if it were nothing more than a passing comment:

“Talia’s pregnant. She’s staying here until the baby’s born.”

The words didn’t register at first.

Talia? His secretary?

My heartbeat roared in my ears. My lips parted, but no sound came out.

“What?” I finally choked out. “She’s what?”

“She’s carrying my child,” Adrian said simply. “It’s not a big deal.”

“Not a big deal?” My voice rose, trembling. “She’s pregnant—and you want her to live with us? Are you hearing yourself?”

Adrian sighed like he was tired of the conversation already. “You’re my wife, Cassia. But you’re infertile. We’ve tried for years. You know how important it is for me to have an heir.”

I flinched.

Five years.

Five long, painful years of fertility treatments, sleepless nights, crushed hopes. I had changed everything—my diet, my body, my life—just to give him what he wanted. A child. A family.

I thought we were in it together.

I thought we had come to terms with it—together.

Clearly, I was wrong.

“This isn’t surrogacy,” I snapped. “You didn’t ask me. You didn’t even tell me. You slept with her, Adrian. You betrayed me.”

“It’s not betrayal,” he said flatly. “It’s a solution.”

I laughed bitterly. “A solution? She’s not a surrogate. She’s your mistress.”

“Cassia, stop being dramatic. You still have everything. The house. The title. My name.”

“But not your heart,” I whispered.

He didn’t deny it. Just laughed like it was absurd.

And then she appeared. Talia. Soft-spoken. Hands folded, eyes wide in fake innocence.

“I didn’t mean to cause trouble,” she said gently. “Maybe I shouldn’t stay. I can find somewhere else until the baby comes.”

Adrian’s expression softened in an instant. He crossed to her, touched her arm. “No. You’re staying.”

The way he looked at her—he hadn’t looked at me like that in years.

And then he turned to me, all command and coldness.

“Cassia, make something for Talia. We’re hungry.”

That was the final blow.

I crossed my arms, grounding myself against the rage. “I’m not your maid. If she’s hungry, she can cook.”

His eyes narrowed. And then came the slap.

---

Now they were gone.

And I was alone. Again.

But this time, something inside me was different.

The tears came silently as I stood in the ruins of our life. I thought we had a future. I thought we still had time.

But Adrian had made his choice.

He had destroyed everything we had, and he hadn’t even blinked.

If he could build a new life without me...

Then so could I.

And this time, I would build it without apology.

Without him.

The whiskey scorched my throat, leaving behind a bitter aftertaste that couldn’t compare to the ache lodged deep in my chest. I sat at the farthest booth of a low-lit bar, the neon glow flickering off the untouched glass in front of me like a cruel spotlight on my loneliness.

Adrian’s betrayal haunted me—fresh, raw, and merciless. His indifference as he stood beside her… as if I hadn’t given him every piece of myself for years. Talia’s presence at his side wasn’t just painful—it was humiliating. I could still see the way he defended her, shielded her, chose her.

How had everything unraveled so completely?

My phone vibrated against the wood of the table, snapping me out of my spiral. My hand trembled as I picked it up, a sinking feeling already settling in my stomach. I unlocked the screen and opened the message.

It was from the private investigator I had discreetly hired—someone positioned within Adrian’s own company.

“Mrs. Brooks, I’ve completed the investigation. Mr. Brooks and Ms. Talia had been intimately involved for over a year before her pregnancy was confirmed. Enclosed are screenshots of conversations, travel logs, and other relevant materials confirming their ongoing relationship.”

One year.

Twelve months of deception, of sleeping beside me while loving someone else. My eyes stung with unshed tears as I opened the files—text exchanges, hotel receipts, flight bookings. Everything I needed was right there in black and white.

I used to believe the sudden vacations and surprise gifts were tokens of love. An apology for the failed IVF attempts, the emotional toll of it all.

Now I realized it had been guilt. Bribes, even.

He had been in someone else’s bed and returned to mine as if nothing was wrong. He kissed me with the same lips that whispered to her.

My grip tightened around the phone until my knuckles turned white. I exhaled sharply, trying to keep the rising nausea and grief at bay. This wasn’t the time to fall apart.

I wouldn’t let him—or her—see me broken.

I opened my contacts and pressed the number I had dreaded using. It rang only once before a voice answered.

“Cassia?”

“I need you to draft the divorce papers,” I said, tone calm and flat, even as my soul quaked beneath it all.

A beat of silence. “You’re certain?”

“I’ve never been more sure.”

---

By my fourth drink, the edges of my pain had dulled, replaced by a cold emptiness. That’s when I overheard a conversation just a few tables away.

“Apparently, he’s searching for a wife. Doesn’t even care about falling in love—just wants someone to play the role.”

“Who, Julian Vale?”

That name yanked me out of my daze. I turned slowly, heart hammering.

There he was—seated in the exclusive section of the bar, bourbon in hand, gaze cool and detached.

Julian Vale. My ex-fiancé. Adrian’s fiercest business rival. The man my family had once hoped I’d marry... before I had foolishly chased what I thought was love.

And now? Look where that had led me.

An idea, as sharp and bold as the liquor I’d just swallowed, struck me.

With deliberate confidence, I rose to my feet and crossed the room. His eyes met mine as I approached, recognition flashing behind them before suspicion took its place.

I slipped into the seat across from him, setting down my drink.

“How about we finally tie the knot?” I said smoothly, a hint of mischief in my voice.

His brow rose. “I beg your pardon?”

“You heard me,” I replied, my tone laced with challenge. “We were supposed to get married once, weren’t we?”

Julian leaned back, clearly intrigued. “You’re still married to Adrian.”

“Not for long,” I answered, unbothered.

He eyed me for a long moment, then chuckled. “You’re being serious.”

“As serious as a divorce settlement.”

I leaned forward, my voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. “There’s a private gathering next week. A high-profile event hosted by you, if I’m not mistaken.”

His expression darkened slightly. “And?”

I smiled, tilting my head. “Make it our wedding reception.”

He stared at me, amusement glinting in his eyes. “What’s in it for me?”

“You need a bride. I need a clean break,” I answered with a shrug. “And let’s not pretend you wouldn’t enjoy the chance to humiliate Adrian. After all, didn’t he undercut you in that multi-million deal last year?”

Julian’s smirk deepened.

I lifted my glass. “So? Do we have an agreement?”

He mirrored the gesture, the clink of glass between us finalizing a silent contract.

“We do.”

I took a long sip, a slow smile forming.

“See you at the altar, Mr. Vale.”

---

Later that evening, I stepped back into what used to be my home and immediately regretted it.

Talia lounged on my couch, visibly pregnant, one hand absentmindedly stroking her stomach as she shoveled chips into her mouth like royalty. She glanced up with a mocking smile.

“Well, look who’s home.”

I didn’t answer, walking past her toward the stairs, not trusting myself to speak. But then she opened her mouth again.

“I feel bad about how everything turned out,” she said with exaggerated sympathy. “I never meant for your marriage to fall apart.”

I stopped in my tracks, my back still turned to her.

“But you knew he was married,” I replied, voice icy.

“And he still came to me,” she answered smugly. “What was I supposed to do? Say no?”

She stood, cradling her belly like it gave her power. “You couldn’t give him a baby. I could.”

My fists clenched at my sides.

“Doesn’t that make you feel… inadequate?” she continued sweetly. “All these years, and you gave him nothing. No wonder he strayed.”

A deep fury welled inside me, white-hot and consuming. I turned, fast.

“You absolute parasite,” I growled, lunging at her.

She shrieked as we collided, nails flying, limbs entangled. We crashed against the coffee table, knocking over decor and scattering cushions.

“You manipulative bitch!” I shouted.

She slapped me hard across the cheek. “You’re a failure!”

“You destroyed everything!” I screamed, shoving her toward the hallway.

We were clawing and shoving like wild animals, breath coming in pants, neither of us backing down. Somewhere in the chaos, we stumbled near the open balcony doors.

The room spun.

Talia shrieked.

And then—

There was nothing.

A loud crash.

The world went silent.

Then came the dark.

Agony.

That was the first sensation that clawed its way through me as my eyes fluttered open.

Every inhale was a war, each movement a scream echoing in my bones. My limbs felt like dead weight, heavy and unresponsive. I tried to shift, but nothing obeyed me. A muffled cry slipped past my lips as I lay frozen in place, utterly powerless.

Then it hit me. All of it.

Memories surged forward like a violent tide—Talia’s twisted smirk, our vicious fight, our hands locked in rage, and then... falling. Both of us plummeting off the edge.

I forced my head to the side, a herculean effort that sent sharp jolts of pain through my neck. The clinical white walls, the antiseptic tang in the air, and the quiet, rhythmic beeping of machines confirmed where I was.

A hospital.

My throat was parched, and it took all my strength to croak out, “Somebody... help.”

The door slammed open, making me flinch in alarm.

Adrian stormed in like a thunderstorm, rage radiating off of him in violent waves. His face was contorted with fury, his fists clenched so tightly his knuckles had gone white.

“You disgusting, selfish woman!” he bellowed, his voice slicing through the sterile quiet like a blade.

I could barely breathe, let alone defend myself. “Adrian... I—”

“You almost killed her!” he thundered, stepping closer until his shadow consumed me. “Talia’s in intensive care. They don’t know if she’ll pull through. And the baby—” His voice cracked with anguish. “You murdered my child!”

Murdered?

My heart pounded against my ribs. “No. No, Adrian, it wasn’t like that!” I pleaded, panic tightening around my chest. “She started it! I didn’t mean—”

His hand lashed out and gripped my wrist with cruel force. I let out a cry as he yanked me forward, pain exploding through my battered body.

“Shut your mouth!” he snarled. “I don’t want to hear any more of your lies!”

I sobbed, the pain and betrayal choking me. “Please... you’re hurting me!”

But he didn’t stop. With no care for my injuries, he hauled me from the bed, dragging me through the sterile corridors like a ragdoll. My legs buckled beneath me, my vision flickering in and out, but he didn’t slow down.

“Adrian, please!” I cried. “This is too much!”

He didn’t answer. Not even a glance.

We reached the elevator. He jabbed the button, seething in silence.

When the doors slid open, I tried to resist, but he shoved me inside.

A terrible realization dawned.

Not here. Please, not the rooftop.

But he pushed me forward again, and when we stepped out into the open air, the cold wind whipped against my skin. My breath caught as the vast city stretched out below us—beautiful and deadly.

I stumbled backward instinctively. “Don’t do this, Adrian. I’m begging you.”

His face was carved from stone. There was no love left in his eyes. Not even hatred. Just something empty.

“If I had known you were barren, I would’ve never tied myself to you,” he said, his words laced with disgust. “You were just a burden. A failed investment.”

Each word was a dagger.

“Adrian, I—”

“You’re useless,” he spat. “A disgrace. You couldn’t even do the one thing I needed from you.”

I stood trembling, barely able to stay on my feet.

He moved closer.

“So if you have no purpose in my life,” he said with an awful smile, “then maybe you don’t deserve to live at all.”

“No, wait—” I tried to run, but he was faster. His hands crashed into my shoulders.

And then—

I was airborne.

The wind screamed in my ears. The city lights spun around me. The world became a chaotic blur as gravity yanked me downward. I cried out, my voice torn by the cold and fear.

Images flashed before my eyes—Adrian whispering sweet nothings, slipping the ring on my finger, kissing my forehead after long nights. A thousand memories now revealed as empty.

I had given him everything.

He had given me a death sentence.

As I plummeted into the abyss, my final thought wasn’t anger.

It was sorrow—for the love I wasted.

Then came the dark.

---

Sound returned before sight.

Distant voices, soft but urgent, stirred me from the void. My eyelids fluttered open, assaulted by the blinding light of another hospital room. Pain greeted me again like an old friend.

But I was breathing.

Alive.

I let out a small, ragged gasp.

A nurse beside me gasped as well, clearly startled by my awakening. She quickly set down the clipboard she was holding and leaned toward me with a mixture of relief and awe.

“You’re awake,” she said gently. “My God... You’re a miracle.”

My brow furrowed weakly. “W-What happened?”

“You survived the fall,” she explained, her voice full of wonder. “There were workers outside cleaning the building’s windows. You landed on the emergency safety tarp. It absorbed most of the impact.”

I stared at her, stunned. The world should have gone black forever that night. But here I was.

Alive.

And yet, I felt nothing.

Not gratitude. Not relief.

Only a vast, hollow ache.

My eyes stung. A tiny, foolish part of me had hoped—hoped he would be here. Waiting. Regretful. Something.

But then I heard muffled voices outside my room.

Two nurses speaking in hushed tones.

“He hasn’t left her side since it happened.”

“Well, of course. She’s still unconscious.”

“Poor man. Losing their baby...”

The rest faded into background noise as realization settled over me like ice.

They weren’t talking about me.

They were talking about her.

Talia.

Adrian had stayed—had grieved—all for her.

Not for the woman he almost killed.

A quiet sob broke free as I gripped the thin sheets beneath me. He had abandoned me, tried to end me—and even then, he still chose her.

My breath hitched. I curled tighter into the mattress, biting my lip to stifle the screams building in my chest.

I had given him my heart, my body, my loyalty.

And he had tossed me aside like garbage.

Time passed—I didn’t know how long—before I felt it.

Fingers clamping around my wrist.

My eyes snapped open.

Adrian.

His grip tightened with bruising strength, his expression contorted with pure hatred.

“You’re still alive,” he said, his voice devoid of emotion. “Unbelievable.”

I recoiled instinctively. “Adrian—”

“I warned you,” he hissed. “I told you what would happen if anything happened to my child.”

He leaned in, voice dropping to a threatening whisper. “You’ve survived once. But I promise... this time, you won’t be so lucky.”

My blood turned to ice.

He wasn’t done.

He was really going to kill me.