1 In the fifth year of my marriage, I did something incredibly stupid. I sent Simon’s precious little canary packing—all the way out of the country, hoping he would finally come back to me. But when he found out, he said nothing at all. Instead, in the blink of an eye, he brought my family's business to ruin, forced my father to his knees, and turned my mother’s hair white overnight. And now, here he was, his face a thunderous mask, ready to make me pay. “Kara,” he said, his voice a low growl, “I suppose I was too good to you. It made you forget your place.” “Now, it’s your turn to taste what it’s like to wish you were dead.” ... When those words left his lips, I finally lifted my head to look at him. We’d been in love for four years, married for five. We had given each other the best years of our youth. I never imagined it would come to this. My hand drifted to my stomach, where our child had been growing for nearly three months. But it was as if Simon couldn't see it, his eyes burning with a single, obsessive question. “I’ll give you one last chance. Where is she?” A bitter laugh threatened to escape, but I choked it down. My one act of rebellion had already cost my family everything. “Let my parents go,” I whispered, my voice hoarse. “And I’ll tell you.” Simon nodded slowly. He closed the distance between us, and before I could react, his hand shot out, clamping around my throat. He forced my head back, leaving me no choice but to stare into his eyes. “Don’t push your luck, Kara.” “Finding Mia is just a matter of time. What makes you think you’re in any position to bargain with me?” A violent wave of suffocation seized me. I gagged, my face flushing a deep crimson as the veins in my neck bulged. Panic, cold and sharp, clawed at me. I bit down hard, but through the terror, I managed to rasp out the words. “And that gives you the right... to force my father to his knees?!” “He’s my father!” Simon’s expression remained a blank, chilling mask, his grip unyielding, his strength terrifying. Tears streamed from my eyes, but my gaze was locked on his. His pupils were dark pools of madness. I had no doubt he would kill me right here, right now, for another woman. Just as my vision began to tunnel, he released me, flinging me back against the sofa. I gasped for air, my body trembling with the aftershock of fear. I curled into a ball, and in that single, fractured moment, our past flashed before my eyes—all the love, all the promises. A sob tore from my throat, raw and uncontrollable. I wept for the past we could never get back, for this hopeless, devastating marriage. And most of all, I wept for the pathetic woman I had become. Simon just stood there, watching me, his heart a stone. He didn’t even give me a moment to breathe before he grabbed my chin again, his voice dropping to a sinister whisper. “I’ll ask you one last time. Where did you send my Mia?” He was gone. The moment I gave him the information, he bolted from the room. I saw it clearly—the wave of joyous relief that washed over his face. My husband was truly, utterly mad for another woman. Wiping my tears, I called my parents, telling them to pack. We had to leave tonight. I expected my father to scream at me, to blame me, but instead, his aging voice cracked with unshed tears. “Our dear Kara, you’ve suffered so much. Daddy doesn’t blame you. We’ll just… we’ll leave.” After hanging up, I was swallowed by a tidal wave of guilt and despair. Simon and I had met in college and married right after graduation. His family, the Stantons, were a dynasty. Marrying into their world was something my father could never have dreamed of. He’d worried, of course, that I would be bullied, that with my family’s modest standing, I’d have no one to back me up. But I had promised him, with all the certainty of a girl in love, that Simon adored me. He would never let me suffer. 2 He used to shower me with gifts for every occasion and proudly introduce me to all his friends. Whenever we were apart, he’d text me a hundred times a day saying he missed me, his eyes turning red with jealousy if another man so much as looked my way. “You know, Kara,” he once whispered, “the Stantons are all twisted monsters. You’re the only one who ever taught me what love is.” He was deeply insecure, constantly seeking reassurance of my love. I would hold him for hours, stroking his hair until he finally fell into a peaceful sleep in my arms. I thought we would be like that forever. So when his affection vanished, falling off a cliff without warning, I panicked. Mia was a fresh college graduate. I first heard her name from Simon’s executive assistant, who mentioned it as a joke. “These young girls have no imagination,” she’d laughed. “The whole ‘accidentally spilling coffee on the CEO’ cliché? It’s been done to death.” I dismissed it as office gossip. But it wasn’t long before Mia, against all company policy, became Simon’s personal assistant. He took her horseback riding. When she admitted she didn’t know how, he lifted her into the saddle in front of him, his arms wrapped around her as they ambled along on a single horse. She was clueless about the nuances of the business world, so Simon patiently mentored her, even personally teaching her how to prepare his tea just the way he liked it. Once, a crass business partner made a suggestive joke about her. Simon, always so cool and composed, beat the man so badly he ended up in the hospital. He made no effort to hide it. His infatuation with Mia was an open secret. By the time the stories reached me, they were already attending galas as a couple, kissing amidst the teasing laughter of the crowd. When someone sent me a photo, I confronted him, losing my temper with Simon for the very first time. He just sat there in his leather throne of a chair, watching me silently, his eyes seeming to accuse me of being irrational. “Kara, you’re almost thirty. Why are you competing with a young girl?” “When you were in your early twenties, I doted on you just the same, didn’t I?” In that instant, I felt like I’d been plunged into ice water. I finally understood. Simon’s love was loyal, in its own twisted way. He only loved young women, and I had aged out of the role. I was ready to file for divorce, but then I found out I was pregnant. For my child, for the family I still wanted to believe in, I decided to fight. I asked my father to use his connections to send Mia abroad. The result was a catastrophe. After nine years together, I meant nothing to Simon. I had lost, utterly and completely. My father told me to give him three days. Having made an enemy of the Stantons, there was no place left for us in this country. I used that time to schedule an abortion. If the love was gone, there was no reason to keep Simon’s child. There would be plenty of younger girls to bear his children. But the doctor informed me that the pregnancy was too far along for a simple procedure. It would require an induction, which meant a hospital stay. With only three days left in the city, I had no choice but to put it off. On the way back, I tried to consult with a lawyer about the divorce. But the moment they heard the name Simon Stanton, they all backed away. “Mrs. Stanton,” one of them said apologetically, “Mr. Stanton’s firm has a team of the best lawyers in the country. We… we wouldn’t stand a chance.” I understood. I didn’t push it. After marrying Simon, I had become a full-time homemaker. He said he didn’t want me working, and like a fool, I had listened for five years. Now, my entire social circle was curated by him; I had no one to turn to for help. It didn't matter. Once he had his precious Mia back, I was sure he'd grant me a divorce easily enough. 3 I started sorting through our things at home. I left anything of value, taking only some seasonal clothes and my personal documents. The pregnancy made me constantly tired, and that evening, I fell asleep on the sofa while packing. The next morning, the sound of the front door opening startled me awake. I shot up from the sofa, my heart pounding. I never expected him to be back so soon. It was Simon. And he was holding a young woman’s hand. It was Mia. She was even more beautiful in person, a delicate flower that photos couldn't do justice. She clutched several shopping bags from high-end luxury brands, and the diamonds on her stilettos caught the light, nearly blinding me. Clearly, he had already won her back. A cold dread settled in my stomach. I couldn’t believe how quickly he’d returned. My hand instinctively went to my neck, the phantom sensation of his grip returning. I was afraid of him. Truly afraid. I forced myself to my feet. Simon led Mia to stand directly in front of me. He smiled at her, gently tucking a stray strand of hair behind her ear, then turned to me, his expression instantly cooling. “Kara. Apologize to Mia.” I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. Even after he’d destroyed my family, after he’d tried to strangle me just yesterday—I thought he’d reached the pinnacle of cruelty. But now he wanted me to apologize to his mistress? Seeing my stunned silence, Simon’s fingers dug into my jaw, forcing my head to face Mia. “Didn’t you hear me? I said, apologize to Mia.” He was a businessman. He knew exactly how to shatter a person’s spirit, even if that person was the wife who had loved him for years. Mia, for her part, hadn't so much as glanced at me since she walked in. She kept her eyes downcast, her lips pressed into a faint pout. She didn't have to say a word to look like the picture of a wronged, pitiable victim. “Simon, please, you don’t have to do this,” she murmured. “My position is… awkward, I know. It’s only natural for your wife to hate me.” Though her words were placating, I caught a quick, venomous glance she shot in my direction. Then she tugged at Simon’s sleeve, her voice a soft whine. “Simon, I’m a little tired. Can I go rest?” He leaned down and kissed her cheek, his voice dripping with tenderness. “Of course. Go on, get some rest in the bedroom.” Mia’s wide eyes flickered toward me. “But this is your house. Where should I go?” Without a moment's hesitation, Simon led her toward our master bedroom. The implication was a slap in the face. My entire body was shaking. I clenched my jaw so hard my teeth ached, fighting the urge to scream. I took a deep, ragged breath, watching as he settled her into our room. Only when the door was closed did I finally speak to his back, my voice a raw whisper. “Simon, let’s get a divorce.” “You’ve trampled on my dignity like it’s trash. You’ve destroyed my parents’ life’s work.” I stared at him, my eyes red-rimmed but my voice steady. “This was all my fault. My mistake was being blind enough to fall in love with you in the first place.” At this, he actually raised an eyebrow. He sauntered back over to me, his hands in his pockets, leaning in until his handsome face was inches from mine. His expression was a mix of malice and something else, something I couldn’t quite decipher.
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