The driver of the car that hit me was Carter Hayes’s first love. When Carter arrived at the scene, she let out a sigh of relief. "My boyfriend's here," she announced to me. "Just tell his assistant what you want for compensation." Carter wrapped his jacket around her shoulders. Then his brow furrowed as he stared at my bleeding knee, his gaze lingering for a long time. Her voice was uncertain. "Do you two... know each other?" Carter's expression shuttered. He took her hand and led her away. "No." I sat quietly on the curb, applying a Band-Aid, showing no reaction to his words. After all, the first clause in the prenuptial agreement he’d given me three years ago was that our marriage would remain a secret. I couldn't get a cab during the morning rush. As I limped my way to the office, a single thought echoed in my mind. My three-year contract marriage with Carter Hayes was about to expire. I could finally leave. 1 I always knew Carter had someone he could never forget—the one that got away. I just didn't know it was the woman who’d just run a red light and hit me. I didn’t realize it until Carter showed up. For a split second, I froze, my stupid heart thinking he was there for me. But the woman in front of me, Serena, scrambled to her feet. The hem of her white dress fluttered as she ran and threw herself into his arms. "Carter, what do I do? I hit someone." He took off his tailored blazer and draped it over her trembling shoulders. His voice was the same as always—a low, calm baritone. "I'll handle it." I slowly dragged my eyes away from them and stared down at my scraped knee. It belatedly dawned on me why Carter had been coming home so rarely these past few weeks. The woman in his arms, his first love, Serena Croft, was back in the country. 2 Serena visibly relaxed. She stepped out of his embrace and looked back at me. "My boyfriend's here," she repeated. "Whatever compensation you want, just talk to his assistant." She gave me an apologetic smile. "I'm so, so sorry about this. I've made you late for work and gotten you hurt." Then she added, with a touch of pride, "Don't be afraid to ask for anything. My boyfriend is very rich. He'll agree to whatever you want." "Thank you," I murmured. Carter's assistant, David, looked deeply uncomfortable. He was one of the very few people who knew about our marriage. "Mrs. Hayes… uh, I mean, Miss," he stammered. "That, uh..." His eyes fell on my knee. "Why is your wound still bleeding like that? It's been half an hour." He looked concerned. "Do you have some kind of bleeding disorder?" I nodded. "It's very mild." Carter's head snapped in our direction, his voice a low rumble. "A bleeding disorder?" "What's wrong?" Serena asked, confused. He didn't seem to hear her. His gaze was fixed on my knee, his brow tightly knit. Serena finally sensed that something was off. She looked from my face to Carter's, her expression turning to suspicion. "Do you two know each other?" I knew he would never let her find out he had a secret wife. He blinked, schooling his features back into a neutral mask. "No." He took Serena’s hand and, as he turned to leave, tossed a casual order to David over his shoulder. "Take her to a hospital." 3 As their figures receded, I stopped David. "I've already called an Uber," I said. "Just cover my lost wages for the day, please. Two hundred and thirty-seven dollars." David, looking utterly mortified, transferred the money and left. I stuck a large bandage over my knee. Unfortunately, my Uber driver called to cancel, stuck in a massive traffic jam. I pushed myself up from the curb and began the slow, painful walk to my office. Today was September 28th. I had exactly two months until my contract with Carter was up. It was time to start planning my exit. 4 Carter had paid for my education since I was in high school. When I got into a university in his city, he became my legal guardian. During my junior year, I interned at his company for three months. Serena was already overseas getting her master's degree by then, so I knew nothing about her. Carter took me under his wing, teaching me the ins and outs of the corporate world. He was a man who rarely showed emotion, but I remember one evening, when a sleazy investor got handsy with me at a business dinner, Carter kicked the man square in the chest. Then, he took an empty wine bottle and pressed it into my hand. He stood behind me, his body shielding mine, his voice a low whisper in my ear. "Do you know what today's lesson is?" His scent, a cool, woody fragrance, enveloped me. I forced myself to breathe shallowly, to stay calm. "You're... you're teaching me to fight back at the right moment. To maintain control of the situation instead of..." His large, warm hand closed over mine, gripping the bottle. "Good student," he murmured, "but this isn't a word problem. There's no textbook answer." He guided my hand, raising it high. "It's just a fight." CRASH. The bottle shattered against the investor's head. The impact vibrated up my arm. Carter pulled the silk pocket square from his blazer and gently wiped the sweat from my palm. "Don't ever forget," he said softly. "I'm here to back you up. Don't let anyone push you around." I snatched my hand back, mumbled that I understood, and ran. Any longer, and he would have seen the adoration in my eyes. 5 Before my senior year graduation, Carter came to me with a proposal. A contract. He needed a marriage of convenience to get his parents off his back. The term was three years. The conditions were simple: our marriage was to be kept a secret from everyone. I would occasionally accompany him to family functions. We were not required to fulfill any spousal duties. We were not responsible for each other's lives. I could even date, as long as it wasn't public enough to get back to his parents. At the end of the contract, I would receive five million dollars. 6 Maybe it was the intoxicating feeling of being in love for the first time. Maybe it was Carter's occasional indulgence that made me bold. After we were married, I moved into the new villa he’d bought. The highlight of my day was waiting for him to come home from work. We'd eat together, talk. Sometimes we’d watch a movie or go for a walk. Then one night, he came home drunk, draped over his female executive assistant. His arm was around her shoulders, his face buried in the crook of her neck. "Mrs. Hayes, please step aside," she said coolly. "I need to get Mr. Hayes inside." A hot, ugly feeling coiled in my gut. I didn't move. I held out my hands. "I'll take my husband." As I supported Carter's weight and turned to close the door, the assistant smiled thinly. "You should learn to be more magnanimous, Mrs. Hayes. A woman with such a jealous streak will only make herself miserable. You don't expect him to fire every woman at his company just for you, do you?" I didn't realize Carter was still conscious enough to hear her. Or to notice the raw emotion on my face. When I brought out the hot tea I'd made for his hangover, he was leaning against the sofa, his eyes sharp and clear. "I'm awake," he said. "Drink this," I mumbled, pushing the cup toward him. "It'll help." I was still fuming about him and his assistant and didn't want to talk. He glanced at the tea but didn't touch it. Instead, he asked me a question out of the blue. "Do you know why I've never let you in my study?" I shook my head, confused. He stood up and took my hand, leading me down the hall. His steps were unsteady, but when I tried to support him, he shook his head. He pushed open the study door. A massive canvas dominated the room. It was a painting of a girl, maybe sixteen or seventeen, standing in a field of flowers, her head bowed as she smelled a blossom. From that angle, you could only see half of her face. It was why I hadn't recognized Serena at first glance. Carter leaned against the doorframe and lit a cigarette. "I've been in love with her since I was seventeen," he said, his voice flat. "For ten years now. If we hadn't fought, if she hadn't left for Europe in a fit of anger, she would be the one I'm married to now." His tone was casual, but every word was a hammer blow against my eardrums. He seemed oblivious to my reaction. He cut straight to the point. "I can't give you the response you're looking for. So, Elara, it's best not to have feelings that you shouldn't." He used his boardroom voice, the one he used during negotiations. "I'm adding a supplementary clause to our agreement. If you cannot manage your own emotions and overstep your boundaries into my personal affairs, it will be considered a breach of contract. A breach means you forfeit the payment and will be liable for corresponding damages." The study was dark. The light from the hallway cast a long rectangle on the floor in front of me. I saw my own shadow, frozen like a statue. I couldn't move. Inappropriately, I remembered something I'd heard him say once at the office, about a greedy business partner. "The way they test the boundaries, so desperate and obvious... it's nauseating." Now, I was one of those people who made him sick. I don't know when he left. I just stood there. I stood until the sun came up. I stood until the toxic lump in my chest finally dissolved. After that day, I managed myself perfectly. I never let a single inappropriate emotion show. Cool, polite, respectful. That's all he got from me. And after a while, I think I really, truly stopped loving him. 7 I found an urgent care clinic to clean and bandage my leg, then texted my manager to take a sick day. With nothing else pressing, I went to the hospital to see my mom. "They haven't been able to schedule me with the specialist, so I should just go home," she was saying as I walked in. "We're just wasting money, honey." My mom has a brain tumor. It's in a very tricky location. There are fewer than three surgeons in the entire country who can perform the operation. I popped a piece of pear into her mouth to stop her from talking. "Absolutely not. Remember what happened last time you tried to go down to the third floor for a scan by yourself? You fainted." I lowered my voice. "Besides, I heard that one of the top neurosurgeons, Dr. Finch, is going to be doing a guest residency here for the next two months." My mom's primary doctor had promised to get us an appointment the moment he arrived. The thought that she might soon be cured made my steps feel lighter as I went to the cafeteria to get lunch. The head nurse stopped me in the hallway, her expression hesitant. "Elara..." "What is it, Maggie?" I asked. "Did a private room open up?" This was one of the best hospitals in the country, and even the private rooms were always full. My mom was in an eight-person ward with no private bathroom. I'd asked the head nurse to keep an eye out for me. She sighed. "One did. And I put your name on it right away. But a new patient came in, someone with serious connections. They gave the room to her mom instead." She lowered her voice. "I heard her boyfriend's last name is Hayes, runs some huge corporation... the hospital didn't want to say no." At that exact moment, I saw a flash of white at the end of the hall. The same white dress Serena had been wearing this morning. I looked away and forced a smile for the nurse. "Thank you for trying, Maggie. The room isn't what's important. I just want my mom to get her surgery." 8 When I got home that evening, Carter was standing by the espresso machine. I paused. I was surprised he wasn't with Serena. Not that it was any of my business. I gave a slight nod. "Mr. Hayes." I was about to go to my room when he spoke. "How's the knee?" "I put some antiseptic on it. It's fine." He set down his coffee cup and glanced at his watch. "I need you to come with me to my parents' for dinner tonight. Are you free?" He didn't need to ask so politely. According to our contract, I had to be free. I nodded. "Yes." For a family dinner, I couldn't dress in my usual simple clothes. I chose a designer pantsuit, did my makeup, put on jewelry, and sprayed a light perfume. Polished from head to toe. At the door to his parents' house, I slipped my arm through his, a familiar gesture. Inside, I smiled obediently and greeted each of his relatives. During dinner, Carter's mother asked without warning, "So, are you two trying for a baby yet?" I choked on my soup. Carter handed me a napkin and patted my back gently. "Elara's still young, Mom." "She's twenty-five," his mother countered. "That's not young. It's time to start thinking about these things, you hear me?" I managed to swallow. "I understand, Mom." A thunderstorm started after dinner, and we had to stay the night. We shared a bed, but with separate comforters. The arrangement was familiar enough not to be awkward anymore. I came out of the bathroom in my nightgown and sat on the sofa to re-dress my knee. Carter looked over. "Sorry I couldn't take you to the hospital myself today." He seemed to be trying to figure out how to explain Serena. I cut him off first. "It's fine. The contract doesn't require you to fulfill any husbandly duties. Don't worry about it. I also won't ask about you and Miss Croft. Rest assured, I won't reveal our arrangement to her. I'll continue to play my part for the next two months." He raised an eyebrow. "Two months?" It seemed he'd forgotten. "Yes," I reminded him. "In two months, the contract expires, and we can get a divorce." He set down his wine glass, his interest fading. "You seem to have the date memorized." With that flat comment, he walked into the bathroom. 9 My mom's doctor called. Dr. Finch was arriving in two weeks. His consultation slots were released online and filled up in seconds. But my mom's case was urgent. The doctor had personally appealed to the hospital administrator and secured an extra appointment for us. For the next two weeks, I went to the hospital every day after work. One afternoon, I was waiting for the elevator when the doors opened and Carter and Serena stepped in. Serena didn't recognize me. Carter's step faltered for a fraction of a second. As the elevator ascended, Serena clung to his arm. "Thank you, my amazing boyfriend, for getting my mom the best room and pushing her scans to the front of the line. Now we just have to wait for the results. How can I ever thank you? Hmm, maybe I'll let you take me to dinner." I stared straight ahead at the floor numbers. After a moment, I heard him ask, "What do you want to eat?" "Let's go to your place!" she chirped. "I want you to make me your famous pasta!" The elevator stopped at my floor. I walked out without hearing his answer. I didn't need to. He would never say no to her. It looked like I'd be staying at a hotel tonight. 10 After dinner with my mom, I checked into a nearby hotel. I was asleep almost as soon as my head hit the pillow. I was in a deep fog when my phone rang. It was Carter. "Hello...?" "When are you coming home? I cooked dinner. I'm waiting for you." I mumbled into my pillow, "Aren't you... with Serena...? I didn't want to run into you two... I'll just stay out for the night..." His voice hardened. "Don't make assumptions. Give me the hotel address. I'll come get you." I was so tired, the request just made me irritable. I rolled over in the blankets. "No, Carter. I'm already asleep. Don't bother me..." There was a silence on the other end, then his tone softened, a hint of amusement in it. "Are you always this grumpy when you're woken up?" In my half-conscious state, I wasn't afraid of him. I made an annoyed sound. I could have sworn I heard a soft chuckle before he spoke again. "Alright, you sleep. I won't disturb you." The line went dead, and I was asleep again. 11 The next day, I'd mostly forgotten the call, except for the bold way I'd used his first name. When he called again, I assumed it was to reprimand me. "Is there something you need, Mr. Hayes?" I asked cautiously. There was a long pause. "Nothing," he finally said, his voice flat. "I just forgot to ask yesterday. What were you doing at the hospital?" I kept my answer brief, not wanting him to think I was asking for help. "My mom's a patient there. It's nothing serious, she should be out soon." "I see," he said. "If you need anything, contact David." I thanked him politely but dismissed the offer. That supplementary clause had conditioned me well. Asking Carter for help was overstepping. I couldn't do it. He didn't hang up. "Mr. Hayes?" I asked. "Was there something else?" I could hear the faint, rhythmic tapping of his finger against a desk. A habit of his on the phone. "I was just wondering what time you usually take a nap," he said idly. "...What?" "So I know when to call you in the future." I had no idea what he was talking about. Was this some new form of corporate torture? 12 Dr. Finch was scheduled to hold consultations on the 17th, from 2 to 5 PM. We had the last slot. I saw Serena at the hospital again, this time alone. Carter had flown out for a business trip on the 13th and wouldn't be back for a week. On the morning of the 17th, I saw her chatting with a nurse. "My mom's results are only partially back," she said, biting into an apple, "but the administrator told me not to worry, it's probably nothing." The nurse smiled briefly. "That's great. Maybe you should go for a walk? We're a bit busy preparing for Dr. Finch's consultations this afternoon." Serena ignored the hint. "A doctor? What doctor?" "He's a top expert in neuro-oncology," the nurse explained. "All his slots are full. But your mother's case is completely different, she doesn't need to see him." Serena took another bite of her apple, a thoughtful look on her face. "Is that so..." A knot of anxiety formed in my stomach. But her mother's condition wasn't serious, and it wasn't even in Dr. Finch's specialty. Surely, she wouldn't try to take a spot. I was wrong. At 2:30 PM, my mom's doctor pulled me aside, her face grave. "We lost the appointment." The words hit me like a physical blow. A roaring in my ears made the world spin. "It was taken by the girlfriend of the CEO of Hayes Corp," she said, her brow furrowed in frustration. "I told her that her mother's condition is something I can easily handle, but she wouldn't listen. She insisted on getting a 'second opinion' from the best, just to be safe." I leaned against the wall to keep from falling. "Can't they add one more slot?" "There's no time. Dr. Finch has another engagement at 5:30." I dug my nails into my palms, the pain keeping me grounded. I immediately called Carter. His phone was off, probably in a meeting. The clock was ticking. I couldn't hesitate. I rushed home, grabbed my marriage certificate, and raced back to the hospital. It was almost 4 PM. My doctor took me to the hospital administrator's office. Before I could speak, he held up a hand. "Miss, there's nothing I can do. The remaining appointments are for very high-profile patients." I pushed the marriage certificate across his desk, breathless. "I am Carter Hayes's wife. You can verify that this document is authentic. I'm not here to take someone else's spot. I'm here to reclaim the one that was stolen from me." 13 I got the appointment back. We scheduled the surgery with Dr. Finch for twenty days later. I asked the administrator and the doctor to keep my identity a secret, but it was no use against Serena. She cornered me as I was leaving the hospital that evening. Her eyes met mine, and she frowned. Then a slow, sharp smile spread across her face. "I remember you. You're the girl I hit with my car. No wonder Carter was so concerned about your 'bleeding disorder.'" I looked down. "I wouldn't have done this if you hadn't taken my appointment. My relationship with him isn't what you think. I can explain." She held up a hand. "I just want to see the marriage certificate." Her tone turned menacing. "Because if you don't show me, I swear I will make such a scene in this hospital that your mother will never have a moment's peace, let alone surgery." I had no choice. I showed her. Serena's smile never wavered. She nodded, handed it back, and immediately dialed Carter's number. He must have just finished his meeting. "Carter, you have a wife." There was a pause. "Who told you that?" he asked, his voice low. Her eyes, filling with tears, were locked on mine. "How could you humiliate me like this?" she announced to the phone. "We're over." She hung up and walked away. I took a step to follow, but she spoke without turning around. "Don't you dare follow me. You're pathetic, letting your husband cheat on you. Don't make me get physical with you in front of a hospital." 14 Carter rejected a dozen of my calls. I texted him an explanation, but he never replied. He returned to the US on the 20th but didn't come back to the villa until the 25th. The five days in between were, presumably, spent winning Serena back. The night before he came home, I saw her post on Instagram. She was in Hong Kong. The photo was of Carter's back, wearing a hotel bathrobe, looking out over the glittering Victoria Harbour. The caption read: Love or a title, which is more important? It seemed she already had her answer. Today, Carter was here to settle the score. I was braced for his anger, but he didn't even look at me. He tossed his coat aside and sat on the sofa, lighting a cigarette. "Do you remember our agreement?" His voice was calm, which was somehow more terrifying than if he'd been yelling. "If you had considered our contract before revealing our marriage, none of this would have happened." I tried to defend myself. "It was because Serena stole my mom's appointment, and the doctor said—" He cut me off smoothly. "Does your mother have anything to do with me?" I fell silent, staring at him. His voice was perfectly cool. "Why should I have to consider your mother's situation? Excuses are pointless. The fact is, you breached the contract." All my arguments died in my throat. I nodded mechanically. "I'm sorry... I'll accept the consequences." I waited for my sentence. The silence was broken by his phone ringing. It was Serena. Even without speakerphone, her voice was clear. "I did some digging on your little wife, Carter. She's in love with you." I stood frozen, beyond embarrassment. "Do you know what that means?" Serena laughed. "It means she stole that appointment on purpose. Her mom probably isn't even that sick. She was just jealous of me and wanted to cause trouble." My head snapped up, my heart seizing. Serena delivered the final verdict. "Get that surgery appointment back for my mother. I doubt her mom will die if she doesn't see this one specific doctor." Her casual words shattered my composure. I collapsed to my knees beside him, my hand trembling as I reached for his sleeve. "No, that's not true, I wasn't lying," I sobbed, my words tumbling out in a panicked rush. "My mom's surgery... no one else can do it, you can check... I'm begging you, please don't take it away, you can do anything you want to me, just... just don't hurt my mom..." Carter's brow furrowed. He grabbed my wrist. "Elara, calm down. Listen to me." But I couldn't hear him. The tension of the past few weeks snapped. I was hysterical, babbling apologies and pleas. And then, everything went black. "Elara." "Elara?" The last thing I heard was his voice, laced with something that sounded like panic. The conversation faded. I felt myself being lifted into someone's arms. Serena's voice was a faint, tinny sneer from the phone. "She fainted? Are you sure she's not faking it?" And Carter's voice, sharp with rage: "Serena!"
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