I Was Married to a Man Who Already Had a Wife

On the morning of our seventh wedding anniversary, I was supposed to be boarding a flight overseas, ready to present my groundbreaking nerve-interface design at an international medical competition. Instead, I found myself in a government office, staring at a piece of paper that suddenly felt completely meaningless.

Out of habit, I skimmed through the information.

Then I froze.

"Excuse me," I said, looking up. "There's been a mistake. I'm married... not divorced."

The clerk behind the glass didn't even seem interested. She lazily clicked through a few screens, treating my life like just another case file.

Married.

I was married.

Luca Devereaux wasn't simply my husband. He was my entire world.

To everyone else, he was a nightmare in human forma mafia king whose name was spoken only in whispers. People believed he could reduce cities to ashes if the mood struck him.

But to me...

He was mine.

Calling him possessive didn't come close. Once Luca claimed something, he never let it go. And from the day we married, he'd made it clear that I belonged to him.

Even if I had wanted to walk away, he never would have allowed it.

So how could I possibly be divorced?

The employee searched the records again.

Then a second time.

Finally, she looked at me as though I were the one making no sense.

"The information is correct," she replied without emotion. "You and Mr. Devereaux legally divorced four years ago. On the very same day, he remarried. What happened? Did you hit your head? Honestly..." She clicked her tongue in annoyance.

The air caught in my lungs.

"T-That's impossible," I stammered. "There has to be some kind of mistake."

"There isn't." She lifted an eyebrow. "His wife is Celeste Harrington. Does that name mean anything to you?"

Did I know Celeste Harrington?

Something inside me seemed to crack.

"...Yes," I answered quietly. "I know exactly who she is."

God.

I knew her better than I ever wanted to.

Seven years ago, she'd stormed into my wedding ceremony determined to stop it. She cried, screamed, and threw herself at Luca in front of everyone. He didn't spare her so much as a glance.

"Get this woman out of here."

His order was enough. Twenty bodyguards dragged her away while I stood there trembling in my wedding gown.

Four years ago, she'd broken into Luca's office, stripped naked on his desk, and shamelessly offered herself to him, insisting she'd do absolutely anything if he'd just give her a chance.

Luca never even looked at her.

He calmly picked up the phone.

"Send the police over," he said. "I've got a problem in my office."

She spent the next fifty days behind bars.

Then there was five years ago...

My right hand suddenly throbbed, as though my body remembered before my mind did.

She had burst into my office without warning, consumed by fury.

Everything happened so fast.

Before I could even defend myself, she'd pulled an axe from her bag and brought it down.

The blade severed my right hand.

I still remembered the scream that tore from my throat.

When Luca learned what she'd done...

I'd never seen him lose control like that.

His eyes were bloodshot, every muscle in his body shaking with murderous rage.

"I'm going to kill her," he'd snarled. "I swear to God, Camille, I'll rip her apart piece by piece."

I was lying there, bleeding so badly I could barely stay conscious.

Still, I reached for him.

"Luca..." I whispered. "Please... don't."

He stared at me, unable to understand why I was stopping him.

But he listened.

He always listened whenever it was me.

Instead of ending Celeste's life, he imprisoned her somewhere no one could ever find, making certain she suffered every single day for what she'd done.

Once, while gently cupping my face, he'd told me in a voice so soft it almost hurt to hear, "Anyone who lays a finger on you will wish they'd never been born. I'll make them pay a thousand times over."

That was Luca Devereaux.

Merciless.

Brutal.

A man who never forgave.

Except when it came to me.

Never me.

So how...

How could the same man marry the woman who had destroyed my life?

My phone vibrated.

I stared blankly at the screen before unlocking it.

Camille, it's our seventh anniversary today. I'll be home tonight. I'm still dealing with that crazy woman. She won't be causing trouble much longer. Don't stay awake waiting for me. I'll wake you when I get back.

Another message appeared almost instantly.

I love you.

A lump formed in my throat.

He always ended his messages that way.

Every text.

Every phone call.

Every lingering glance that made me feel like I was the center of his universe.

I love you.

When we first met, I had nothing.

I was just another surgeon struggling to build a career.

Luca, meanwhile, lived in an entirely different world.

Untouchable.

Powerful.

Dangerous.

Yet somehow...

He chose me.

He pursued me with relentless determination, as though I were the rarest treasure he'd ever found. He crossed continents just to spend a few stolen hours by my side. He shut down entire streets so he could put on fireworks displays just to make me smile. The flowers he sent were so exotic I couldn't even pronounce most of their names.

Whenever I got sick, he'd abandon everything and fly back immediately.

Then he'd march into the kitchen, grumbling under his breath because he barely knew how to cook.

"Eat," he'd mutter, shoving a bowl into my hands. "I didn't spend ten damn hours on a plane just to watch you skip meals."

If I was upset, even meetings with men powerful enough to decide people's fates would come to a halt.

"Hold on," he'd tell everyone before pulling out his phone to call me.

"What happened? Who upset you? Tell me who it was."

His voice would grow colder.

"I'll make them regret it."

Once, someone attacked me by throwing acid out of jealousy.

Luca didn't hesitate for even a heartbeat.

He stepped in front of me on instinct.

The acid struck his back instead.

Blood soaked through his clothes.

Even then, his only concern was me.

Holding me tightly, he whispered, "It's okay... don't cry. I've got you. You're safe. I won't let anyone hurt you."

So tell me...

Was every one of those moments nothing but a lie?

Had I really been foolish enough to believe all of it?

I didn't even remember getting into a taxi until the driver spoke.

"Where to, ma'am?"

I paused.

Only for a moment.

Then I gave him the destination.

"Sun Valley."

The place where Luca had supposedly been keeping Celeste all these years.

My fingers curled tightly against my lap.

If Celeste was truly his wife...

Then who... had I been?

I caught the sound of soft crying drifting in from the garden.

Before I even realized it, my feet were already carrying me toward it.

Pushing aside the hanging wisteria vines, I stepped into the clearing.

Then I stopped breathing.

Luca.

My husband.

Impeccably dressed in a tailored suit, every inch the untouchable kingpin people feared. Power clung to him as naturally as the air he breathed. In one hand, he held a leather riding crop, bringing it down against Celeste again and again as she lay completely naked, restrained on the antique chaise lounge I'd spent weeks searching for to complete our villa.

Then, without warning, he tossed the crop aside.

He bent over her.

And kissed her.

Hungry. Possessive.

His hands roamed over her body while sweat glistened across his back.

Everything inside me lurched.

It felt as though someone had ripped my chest apart with bare hands.

Only then did I realize I'd misunderstood what I'd heard.

Those weren't cries of pain.

They were moans.

Breathless laughter slipped between Celeste's gasps as she clung to him.

The punishment I'd imagined...

It had never been punishment at all.

It was intimacy.

Their intimacy.

The prison Luca always claimed she'd been locked inside wasn't a prison in the slightest.

It was where they hid their life together.

Their sanctuary.

I stumbled backward, my gaze falling onto the chaise lounge.

I'd chosen that piece myself.

I remembered spending days comparing fabrics and carvings because I'd wanted everything in our home to be perfect for him.

Back then, he'd smiled at me with such tenderness.

"Camille deserves nothing less than the most beautiful things," he'd murmured. "This is yours. Just like my heart."

Apparently...

Neither had ever belonged to me.

I clenched my fists until sharp pain shot through my palms.

Why?

Why would he do this to me?

Then I heard them speak.

"You're incredible, sweetheart." Celeste's cheeks were flushed as she beamed at him. "Sometimes I still can't believe I actually became your wife."

"You earned it," Luca answered evenly while buttoning his shirt, as if nothing extraordinary had happened moments before. His voice remained calm, effortless, impossible to read.

Then he said something that made my blood run cold.

"Four years ago, all I wanted was to keep Camille by my side forever. But you..." His tone hardened. "You swung an axe and destroyed her hand so she'd never leave to chase her dreams. Then you surrendered yourself, convinced that sacrificing your own freedom for my happiness was worth it."

Each word felt like another blade sinking into my heart.

"Sometimes I wonder whether I'm too cruel," he continued quietly. "But I can't ignore someone capable of loving me that selflessly. Camille gets my love in the open. You have this villa, and I've given you my name. That's as fair as I can make it."

Fair.

He actually believed that was fair.

I nearly lost my balance.

Years ago, a spoiled heir had mocked me, calling me a fallen angel with broken wings.

Luca had made sure the man paid dearly for those words.

Yet now...

The woman who had permanently shattered my future stood before him, receiving kisses, affection, expensive gifts...

Even his surname.

My throat burned.

I wanted to scream until my lungs gave out.

I wanted to disappear.

"What if Miss Hart learns the truth?" Celeste asked softly. "She'll never forgive us."

Luca's expression never changed.

"My feelings for Camille haven't changed." His confidence never wavered. "I'll spend the rest of my life protecting her. She'll never discover this. And you'll never hurt her again."

Then he knelt before Celeste.

Carefully, he slipped a pink diamond ring onto her finger.

Her eyes widened.

"Isn't this the pink diamond from the Paris auction? The one worth over a hundred million?" she whispered in disbelief. "Do I really deserve something like this?"

Luca brushed a gentle kiss against her lips.

"You're my wife," he said softly. "Of course you do."

His smile was warm.

"Happy fourth anniversary."

I stood hidden among the vines, watching the man who had once promised I was his entire world celebrate another woman instead.

**

I didn't leave the mountain until long after Luca's black sedan had disappeared around the bend.

Even then, I couldn't move.

It felt as though my body had forgotten how.

As if taking one step would force me to accept that everything I'd seen had actually happened.

My phone buzzed.

Almost mechanically, I looked down and opened the message.

Camille, I'm heading home now. I can't wait to celebrate our seventh anniversary with my favorite girl. I love you.

For several seconds, I simply stared at the screen.

Then...

I laughed.

The sound burst out of me so violently that I doubled over.

I laughed until tears poured down my face.

Until my shoulders shook uncontrollably.

Until I sounded completely unhinged.

Seventh anniversary?

He had just spent the afternoon celebrating four years of marriage with another woman.

Now he was coming home to celebrate seven years with me.

What exactly was I?

His backup plan?

His favorite toy?

Or just someone too blind to notice she'd been replaced?

There had been no seventh anniversary.

Legally, we'd been divorced for four years.

Four entire years.

And if this was Luca's idea of lovedestroying my future, trapping me inside a gilded cage, smiling while deceiving me every single day

Then I wanted no part of it anymore.

Not now.

Not ever.

He believed I'd never uncover the truth.

Slowly, I wiped away my tears.

"No," I murmured, my voice barely audible.

"I'm the one who's leaving you."

This time...

For good.

My fingers tightened around the application until the paper wrinkled beneath my grip.

Then I walked away and completed the only two tasks that still mattered.

First, I filed the paperwork to erase every trace of my identity from this country.

Every record.

Every document.

Every connection.

It would be as though Camille Hart had never existed.

Then I resubmitted my competition application.

This time...

Under a different name.

A different identity.

A different future.

Four years earlier, when Celeste hacked off my right hand, she hadn't stopped there.

She'd thrown it to a pack of wild dogs as if I were nothing.

Luca had nearly gone mad afterward.

He spent billions finding the world's best specialists until they fitted me with a prosthetic hand realistic enough to fool almost anyone.

It gave me back an ordinary life.

But it never gave me back my career.

I had been a surgeon.

Steady hands were everything.

Mine would never be the same again.

The dream I'd devoted my life to died alongside that hand.

I couldn't accept it.

Three different times, I tried to end my own life.

Three different times, I failed.

Eventually, there were no tears left to cry.

After countless sleepless nights and endless grief, I forced myself to keep living.

I enrolled in rehabilitation for my new hand.

People called it therapy.

To me...

It was torture.

More than a thousand days of relentless practice.

Blood staining the equipment.

Blisters tearing open.

Skin hardening into calluses before splitting apart again.

Over.

And over.

And over.

But eventually...

I did it.

Against every expectation, I clawed my way back.

Not to who I'd once been

But to someone who could stand on her own again.

I never told Luca.

I wanted it to be a surprise.

I wanted him to see that the woman he claimed to love hadn't been broken forever.

Now...

I was grateful I'd kept it secret.

If he'd known I'd found my way back...

Would he have taken my other hand too?

The thought made bile rise in my throat.

My phone vibrated once more.

A new notification appeared.

Your identity cancellation request has been received and will be completed within eight business days.

Eight days.

That was all that remained.

In eight days, Camille would cease to exist.

No records.

No identity.

No trail.

Not even Luca Devereauxwith all his influence, wealth, and reachcould ever find someone who no longer existed.

As dusk settled over the hills, I returned to the villa.

The instant I walked through the front doors, I sensed that something was terribly wrong.

The air was thick with fear.

Luca stood in the center of the living room, surrounded by armed men. Every servant in the house had been forced onto the floor, their wrists bound, their faces drained of color as they trembled.

His voice cut through the silence like a blade.

"Where is she?" he demanded. "Start talking before I decide to make every one of you regret staying silent."

The moment the servants spotted me, relief flooded their faces.

"Miss Camille!" one of them cried.

Luca spun around.

In the blink of an eye, the ruthless expression disappeared from his face.

Relief crashed over him so completely that it almost looked like he'd been in pain.

"Camille."

He closed the distance in seconds and wrapped me tightly in his embrace, holding me as though letting go wasn't an option.

"Where have you been?" His voice dropped into a rough whisper. "I've called you over and over. I thought something happened to you. You scared me half to death."

My body stiffened instinctively before I forced myself to relax.

"I went shopping," I replied softly. "I lost track of the time."

He leaned back just enough to study my face before exhaling.

"I can't even stay angry with you," he muttered, gently brushing a loose strand of hair behind my ear. "Next time, let me come with you. That's what your husband is for. I'll carry every shopping bag, pay for everything, and be wherever you need me the moment you call."

Your husband.

The words drove straight into my heart.

No.

You haven't been my husband for four years.

"Come on," he said with an easy smile. "It's our seventh anniversary. I've got a surprise waiting for you."

He laced his fingers through mine and led me outside toward the private helipad.

Before I could ask where we were going, he effortlessly scooped me into his arms and carried me into the helicopter.

Moments later, the rotors thundered overhead as the aircraft rose into the evening sky.

I stayed silent.

All I could do was watch him.

The man beside me looked exactly like the Luca I knew.

Yet somehow...

He felt like a complete stranger.

When we were high above the city, he gently lifted my chin toward the window.

"Look down."

I followed his gaze.

Below us, thousands of lights shifted across the darkness, slowly rearranging themselves until glowing words stretched across the city.

LOVE YOU, Camille.

My breath caught.

It was breathtaking.

Completely outrageous.

Exactly the sort of thing only Luca would do.

He leaned close, his lips barely brushing my ear.

"I love you," he whispered. "I always have... and I always will."

My chest tightened painfully.

Anyone looking at us would think I was the happiest woman alive.

So why did it feel like I was suffocating?

The helicopter eventually descended, touching down outside an enormous estate hidden far beyond the city lights.

The moment I saw it...

I knew the night wasn't over.

...

The mansion before us looked less like a home and more like something built for royaltyor perhaps a king of monsters.

People used to talk about it in hushed voices after Luca reportedly paid five billion for the property.

Towering iron gates stood before it, covered in intricate carvings.

At their center were two familiar words.

Camille's Palace.

My breathing faltered.

Every detail reflected me.

The architecture matched the design style I'd once casually mentioned liking during a conversation years ago.

He'd remembered.

The gardens overflowed with orchids.

Not ordinary ones.

Rare species worth more than many people earned in a lifetime.

Then my eyes wandered farther inside.

I froze.

There...

An amusement park.

Built just for me.

A glowing carousel.

A Ferris wheel.

Roller coasters weaving through the night.

Even a small petting zoo where dozens of rescued dogs happily ran, played, and slept together.

All because...

One afternoon, I'd stopped to feed a stray dog.

I'd quietly remarked that it looked lonely.

That single comment had been enough for Luca.

My eyes stung.

He had remembered everything.

Every passing remark.

Every tiny wish.

For seven years, he'd loved me with a devotion so overwhelming that he'd turned my smallest words into reality.

He'd given me everything I'd ever dreamed of.

Even the dreams I'd never spoken aloud.

So why...

Why did my heart feel like it was breaking apart?

Because now I knew the truth.

His love had never belonged solely to me.

He'd divided it.

Half for me.

Half for the woman who had ruined my life.

Luca stepped closer, brushing away the tears on my cheeks with his thumb so tenderly that it hurt more than if he'd slapped me.

"Hey," he murmured. "A husband is supposed to make his wife smile. If you keep crying, you're going to break my heart too."

I nearly laughed.

A husband?

Which wife was he talking to?

Without warning, he lowered himself onto one knee beneath the night sky.

He opened a velvet box.

Inside rested a dazzling ring that sparkled beneath the lights.

"Camille."

He looked at me as though I were the only person who existed.

"Marrying you was the greatest thing that's ever happened to me. I love you so much that even a few hours apart feels unbearable."

My hands trembled.

"So I had something special made."

He lifted the ring.

"There's a tracking chip hidden inside it. Mine carries the receiver. No matter where you go, I'll always know where you are."

His smile softened.

"I'll never lose you."

A chill crept through me.

Was that love...

Or possession?

The intensity in his eyes sent a shiver down my spine.

It looked as though he'd tear the world apart before he'd ever let me leave.

He reached for my hand.

Just as the ring was about to slide onto my finger...

His phone rang.

A unique ringtone.

I noticed the faint shift in his expression.

Celeste.

He glanced at the screen, his face quickly returning to normal.

Without missing a beat, he placed the ring on my finger.

Then he stood.

"An important client needs me," he said casually as he turned away. "I'll be back soon. Don't wait up."

Client?

The word almost made me laugh.

Before I could answer, he was already walking toward the helicopter.

Whatever waited on the other end of that phone call mattered more than finishing this moment.

More than me.

The helicopter lifted into the sky.

Its roar gradually disappeared into the distance.

Silence settled over the estate.

Slowly, I crouched down and picked up one of the puppies wandering nearby.

It gave a tiny bark as it curled against my palm, warm and trusting.

The strays had found somewhere they belonged.

Why hadn't I?

Something slipped from my finger.

The ring.

I bent down and picked it up.

Only then did I realize...

Luca hadn't even noticed.

He'd given me the wrong one.

The ring in my hand wasn't the one with the tracking chip.

It was the receiver.

Which meant...

He had accidentally taken the transmitter with him.

For several long seconds, I simply stared at it.

Then I pressed the hidden switch.

Voices crackled through almost immediately.

"I'm sorry, sweetheart." Celeste's voice quivered. "I didn't mean to fall apart like this. I've been trapped here for four years. Sometimes I feel like I'm losing my mind."

My grip tightened around the ring.

"You don't need to worry about me," she continued, forcing a laugh. "Today's your seventh anniversary with Miss Hart. You should stay with her. I've survived four years already. I'll be okay."

There was a brief silence.

Then Luca answered.

"Stop saying nonsense."

His voice was firm but gentle.

"You think I'd leave you alone when you're sick? I'm your husband. Looking after you comes first, no matter what day it is."

Something inside my chest shattered completely.

I don't care whether it's your anniversary, a business meeting, or anything else, Luca said, his voice gentler this time. When you're in this condition, nothing comes before you. Let's get out for a while. Some fresh air will do you good.

Really? Celeste exclaimed, barely able to contain her excitement. You're letting me leave? You're serious?

A quiet chuckle escaped him.

Have I ever made promises I didn't keep? he replied. Go get ready. We're leaving.

A few moments later, I heard the unmistakable roar of helicopter blades.

Loud.

Familiar.

Taking her away...

Once again.

...

Four years earlier, after Celeste had taken my right hand, the pain had been so unbearable that even breathing felt impossible. Through it all, Luca never left my side. He barely slept, forgot to eat, and refused to leave my hospital room, as if looking away for even a second might cause me to fall apart.

One evening, he suddenly lifted me out of bed and carried me straight to his helicopter.

I was so weak that I could barely hold onto him, but his arms only tightened around me.

When we were high above the city, he gently turned my face toward the window.

"Look down," he said quietly. "See the buildings? From up here, they don't seem so big anymore, do they?"

I gave a weak nod, my vision blurred by tears.

Resting his forehead against mine, he spoke with a tenderness I had never forgotten.

"That's what life's like, Camille. Problems always look enormous when you're standing beneath them. But once you rise above them, they become smaller than you ever imagined."

He squeezed my hand reassuringly.

"And you won't face any of it alone. I'm here. No matter what happens, I'll help you through it. I promise."

Back then...

I believed every single word.

Now I knew better.

The nightmare I'd survived...

The suffering that almost destroyed me...

It all began because of him.

...

The fading sound of rotor blades pulled me back to the present.

I looked toward the neighboring property.

For a moment, I wondered if exhaustion was making me imagine things.

It wasn't.

The helicopter had landed next door.

Another mansion stood there.

An exact copy of mine.

A painful knot tightened in my chest.

The ring resting in my palm vibrated softly before Luca's voice came through.

"Celeste," he said, his tone warm in a way I hadn't heard directed at me in years, "you've spent too long confined to that villa. So I prepared something else."

There was a brief pause.

"This house belongs to you now."

"My anniversary gift."

I forgot how to breathe.

"And today..." he continued, "I'm staying here with you."

Celeste laughed with pure happiness.

It sounded like someone who had just been given everything she'd ever wanted.

At that exact moment, my phone lit up.

Camille, I've got a meeting with an important client. I'll be home tomorrow night instead. Don't wait up. Go enjoy yourself. If you need anything, call your husband. Love you.

My grip tightened around the phone.

A single tear landed on the screen, blurring the word husband until I could barely read it.

He had recreated the same life twice.

Two grand homes.

Two anniversaries.

Two wives.

The same promises.

The same affection.

But there was only one woman he truly chose.

It wasn't me.

Separated by nothing more than a single wall, he was spending his evening with the woman who legally carried his name.

And me?

I felt like the hidden one.

The secret.

Someone tucked away where no one else could see.

A mistress disguised as a wife.

The ache in my chest remained.

But the tears never came.

There wasn't much time left anyway.

I wiped my face, turned my back on the mansion, and went home.

Instead of dwelling on everything I'd lost, I buried myself in work.

I picked up my surgical instruments.

Both hands still felt stiff, but years of rehabilitation had finally made them steady enough.

I'd only cleared the first stage of the competition.

If I wanted to make it to the end...

I needed to become even better.

Faster.

Sharper.

Better than everyone else.

Maybe heartbreak had stripped away every distraction.

Every decision came effortlessly.

Each movement felt precise.

It was as though pain had carved away hesitation, leaving behind nothing but instinct.

Hours later, I finished outlining the first surgical procedure.

Leaning back in my chair, I stared quietly at my work.

My fingers accidentally brushed the ring resting on the steel tray.

Click.

The hidden receiver activated.

"I know one day together isn't enough..." Celeste's voice drifted through softly. "After today, I'll have to go back into hiding again... won't I?"

Every muscle in my body froze.

"I understand," she continued, her voice trembling. "Miss Hart can never find out about me. I know I don't deserve anything else."

She laughed weakly.

"But sometimes... I wish I could stand beside you the way she does."

Her voice broke.

"Just once... I'd like everyone to know I'm your wife."

Silence filled the room.

My breathing caught.

My arm began trembling uncontrollably.

It felt exactly like that day.

The flash of steel.

The sickening pain.

My hand being severed.

The agony returned all at once.

Phantom pain.

Real pain.

It hurt.

God...

Why did it still hurt so much?

Luca knew exactly what she'd done to me.

That's why he'd hidden her away.

Because he knew seeing her would destroy me all over again.

He would never allow that...

Would he?

The silence stretched on.

Then he finally answered.

"Alright."

Just one word.

Nothing more.

It was enough.

Something inside me shattered beyond repair.

I pressed a hand against my chest, struggling to breathe through the crushing pain.

...

The following day, Luca returned home as though nothing unusual had happened.

Perfectly on schedule.

The perfect husband.

He walked in carrying expensive gift boxes, smiling as if yesterday had never existed.

Inside one was a sapphire necklace whose brilliance rivaled the sea.

The other contained a custom-made evening gown covered in shimmering diamonds.

"Camille," he said warmly, "it's our seventh anniversary."

His eyes softened.

"I want everyone tonight to see how happy we are."

Happy.

The word felt hollow.

I said nothing.

I quietly changed into the gown.

Allowed him to clasp the necklace around my neck.

Allowed him to admire me as though I were priceless.

Then I slipped my hand into his, letting him lead me outside.

The anniversary banquet was held at one of his seven-star hotels.

Naturally.

Every inch of it belonged to him.

The ballroom glittered beneath crystal chandeliers.

Celebrities mingled with business tycoons, mafia leaders, politicians, and the wealthiest families in the country.

Everything looked flawless.

Yet something immediately caught my attention.

Every waiter wore an identical uniform.

Every face was concealed behind a mask.

Luca barely spared them a glance before turning toward me.

"Tonight belongs to you," he said calmly. "No one's taking attention away from you. The staff are only background. Masks keep it that way."

A sinking feeling settled inside me.

Deep down...

I already understood.

Guests soon surrounded us.

"Mr. Devereaux still worships his wife."

"Mrs. Devereaux really is blessed."

"I heard he bought her a five-billion-dollar estate."

"Every anniversary, his gifts become even more extravagant."

"And so does his love."

Love.

The word made me nauseous.

Then

Riiip.

The sharp sound of fabric tearing echoed across the ballroom.

A waitress had stumbled.

Her uniform had ripped high along her thigh.

Flustered, she hurried to cover herself.

"I-I'm sorry... I'm so sorry..."

Nobody moved.

Nobody dared.

Fear swept through the room.

Everyone knew Luca had no patience for mistakes.

Especially not tonight.

Judging by the terrified expressions around us, they all expected the poor woman to be punished.

Luca's voice cut through the silence.

"Come with me."

The ballroom seemed to freeze.

Then he turned back to me.

His expression softened instantly.

"Camille," he said gently, brushing his fingertips across my arm, "rules exist for a reason. Sometimes people have to learn that lesson."

He smiled reassuringly.

"I'll deal with this and be right back."

Without thinking, I nodded.

He grabbed the waitress by the wrist and led her away.

Something inside me twisted.

Something wasn't right.

Several minutes passed.

Then...

I found myself following them.

I didn't know why.

Maybe part of me already knew exactly what I was going to find.

Upstairs, the conference room door hadn't fully closed.

I eased it open just enough to look inside.

The world stopped.

The waitress was sitting on top of the conference table.

Her legs were wrapped around Luca's waist.

Her mask was gone.

It was Celeste.

Of course it was.

Her cheeks were streaked with tears. She looked so delicate, so helpless... as though she were the one who had been wronged.

A crushing weight settled in my chest.

So this was the truth.

This entire evening had never been meant for me.

It had always been for her.

"Sweetheart..." Celeste's voice quivered. "I'm sorry. I should've been satisfied just getting to leave the villa. But when I saw you with her... the way you looked at her, the way you treated her..." She lowered her head. "It hurt more than I expected. I couldn't breathe. I lost my footing. I embarrassed you." Her eyes searched his face anxiously. "Did I ruin your anniversary with Miss Hart?"

Luca answered without the slightest hesitation.

"No."

His fingers gently brushed away the tears on her face.

"I'm only worried about you. You don't look well." His voice softened. "I'll have someone drive you back and call in the best specialist. You need to rest."

"I don't want anyone else." She wrapped her arms around him more tightly. "No doctor can help me. You're the only one who can make me feel better." Her voice dropped to a plea. "Please... don't send me away."

Something dark flickered behind Luca's eyes.

"Is that so?" he murmured. "You really think I'm all the medicine you need?"

A faint smile tugged at Celeste's lips.

"Find out."

He let out a quiet laugh before pulling her closer and kissing her.

The air caught in my lungs.

I couldn't move.

Everything in front of me felt horribly unreal.

When he finally drew back, he rested his forehead against hers.

"Feeling any better?"

"A little," she whispered. "But not enough."

Her fingers slowly traced across his chest.

"I think I need a little more."

Luca released a low groan, tightening his hold around her waist.

"Damn," he muttered. "Is this because you're sick..."

He looked into her eyes.

"...or are you trying to torture me on purpose?"

She smiled against his ear.

"Maybe both."

The next instant, whatever restraint he'd been holding onto disappeared.

He pushed her gently back against the conference table.

I flinched.

The room blurred.

A memory crashed into me.

Four years ago.

The same woman had stood naked on Luca's office desk, desperately begging him.

"Please... just once..."

Back then, he'd never even looked at her.

"Get this filth out of my office."

Then he'd wrapped an arm around me, covering my eyes.

"Don't look," he'd whispered. "It's disgusting."

He'd kissed my forehead.

"The only woman I'll ever touch is you."

I had believed him.

With everything I had.

Now...

He was touching Celeste with a tenderness I'd once thought belonged only to me.

There was no disgust in his eyes.

Only affection.

I couldn't bear another second.

Turning away, I stumbled out of the room, my knees trembling so violently that I nearly collapsed.

...

By the time Luca returned downstairs, he acted as though nothing had happened.

As though he hadn't shattered my heart only minutes earlier.

He walked straight toward me carrying a gift box.

"Camille."

A small smile crossed his face as he placed it into my hands.

"This hotel belongs to you now."

I stared at him blankly.

"What?"

"The ownership documents are inside." He spoke as casually as if he were talking about the weather. "I figured tonight deserved a memorable gift."

A hotel worth billions.

Given away without a second thought.

Around us, people quietly gasped.

Their eyes filled with envy.

To them, I was the luckiest woman alive.

None of them knew the truth.

Out of the corner of my eye, I noticed Celeste.

She descended the staircase wearing the waitress uniform again, her face hidden behind the same mask.

No one recognized her.

I did.

Even without seeing her expression, I could tell she wasn't pleased.

Her fists were clenched tightly at her sides.

...

A little while later, Celeste returned to serving guests as though nothing unusual had happened.

She carefully arranged champagne glasses into a towering display, stretching onto her tiptoes to place the top row.

Everything seemed perfectly ordinary.

Until it wasn't.

Suddenly, she slipped.

At least...

It looked that way.

Her ankle twisted awkwardly.

She grabbed at the tablecloth for balance.

The entire champagne tower collapsed.

Glass exploded across the ballroom with a deafening crash.

Fragments scattered in every direction.

Gasps echoed throughout the room.

Luca reacted instantly.

He ran.

Not toward me.

Toward Celeste.

Without hesitation, he pulled her against his chest, shielding her completely with his own body as though she were the only person who mattered.

I'd already stepped away from most of the falling glass.

Then Luca collided with me.

Hard.

The impact threw me backward.

I hit the floor headfirst.

For a moment, everything went white.

Then warmth trickled down my temple.

Blood.

Sharp shards bit into my skin.

One cut.

Then another.

Each one burned like fire.

Pain spread through my entire body until I couldn't even find the strength to scream.

The room faded in and out of focus.

Strangely...

I smiled.

Now I understood.

I'd spent years convincing myself he loved both of us.

Maybe not equally...

But enough.

I was wrong.

When the moment came to choose...

He already had.

...

When I opened my eyes again, harsh hospital lights greeted me.

My head pounded.

"Camille..."

Luca sat beside the bed, his expression heavy with guilt.

"I was trying to protect you."

He lowered his gaze.

"I panicked. I grabbed the wrong person."

The wrong person.

He repeatedly kissed my hand as though that simple gesture could erase what had happened.

As though affection could undo betrayal.

I felt nothing.

Looking straight at him, I asked quietly,

"What happened to the waitress?"

I knew perfectly well her fall hadn't been accidental.

Luca hesitated only briefly.

"She was careless."

His voice remained indifferent.

"I've already had her blacklisted. No hotel will hire her again."

I blinked.

Then I laughed.

Again.

It hurt.

Every laugh felt like another crack spreading through my chest.

Celeste wasn't even a waitress.

How was that supposed to be punishment?

It was like forbidding a fish from flying.

Meaningless.

Completely absurd.

Luca mistook my laughter for relief.

His shoulders relaxed.

Thinking everything was fine again, he stayed beside me for the rest of the day.

He personally checked my IV.

Adjusted the drip.

Changed my bandages himself with gentle, practiced hands.

Later, he peeled a lychee and held it toward me.

"Here."

I quietly ate it.

Without saying a word, he extended his hand afterward, waiting for me to spit the seed into his palm like I'd done countless times before.

Passing nurses glanced at us with obvious envy.

If only they knew.

Then his phone rang.

That familiar ringtone.

He froze.

Only for a heartbeat.

Then he stood.

"I need to stop by the company," he said calmly. "I'll be back soon. Don't wait for me."

I simply nodded.

What else was there to say?

The moment he disappeared from sight, I activated the receiver hidden inside the ring.

Only then did I understand.

Celeste was staying in the same hospital.

But unlike me...

She wasn't injured.

She'd suffered nothing more than a tiny scratch.

It had already healed.

Instead of tending to wounds...

Luca was with her.

"Don't move."

His voice drifted through the receiver, lower than before.

"You'll only make things harder."

I froze.

I didn't want to hear another word.

Didn't want to imagine what was happening.

Yet somehow...

I couldn't bring myself to turn it off.

"Sweetheart..." Celeste whispered, her voice fragile. "If you keep locking me away, I'm going to lose my mind."

She drew a shaky breath.

"I can't stay in that villa forever. Every day feels like I'm suffocating."

Her voice cracked.

"Please... don't send me back."

"I want to go outside."

"I want people to see me."

"I want to stand beside you..."

She hesitated.

"...even if she's there."

My fingers tightened painfully around the ring.

"I want to be close to you..."

Her voice grew even quieter.

"...even in front of her."

I squeezed my eyes shut.

I couldn't listen anymore.

"Be careful what you're asking for."

Luca's voice was calm.

Dangerously calm.

The sounds that followed told me everything I needed to know.

I reached down and switched the receiver off.

My hand wouldn't stop shaking.

Inside my chest...

There was nothing left.

When everything finally fell silent, I remembered the last thing Luca had said.

"Okay."

Three days later, I was discharged from the hospital.

Luca refused to let me walk even after I was discharged. He carried me from the hospital to the car, then all the way into the villa before carefully lowering me onto the sofa as though I might break if he handled me too roughly.

"You're still healing," he said gently. "Don't push yourself yet. I don't want you wearing yourself out."

His voice was filled with warmth.

With concern.

With the kind of tenderness that would have fooled anyone.

Then I saw Celeste.

She stood quietly among the servants, dressed in a maid's uniform as though she had always belonged in this house.

My chest tightened painfully.

I looked at Luca, struggling to process what I was seeing.

Celeste had begged him to let her leave the villa.

This...

This was his answer?

He had brought her here.

"Camille, listen to me." Luca drew me into his arms again, holding me close as though he feared I might disappear. Although his voice remained gentle, there was unmistakable determination beneath it. "If she'd been sent to prison back then, she would've finished her sentence by now. Four years isn't enough for what she did."

He lifted my chin until I met his eyes.

"So I brought her here instead. From now on, she'll serve you every day. Let her spend the rest of her time making amends."

My stomach twisted.

He genuinely believed this made sense.

"I even consulted a psychologist," he continued. "You've been carrying too much emotional weight lately. They said confronting the source of your trauma instead of avoiding it might actually help you recover."

His thumb brushed lightly across my cheek.

"Trust me, Camille. Everything I'm doing... I'm doing because I love you."

Love.

The word slipped from his lips so naturally.

What hurt most was that he looked completely sincere.

It was the same expression he had worn seven years ago when he knelt before me and vowed that I would never suffer again.

Now he was the one tearing me apart.

Day after day.

What he was doing felt no different than rubbing salt into a wound that had never healed.

I thought I would lose control.

I thought I'd scream at him.

Tell him to get Celeste out of my house.

Fight him.

Instead...

I felt nothing.

It was as though every emotion had already been drained from me.

"Alright," I answered quietly. "I'll do things your way."

At that point, it wouldn't have mattered if he had made Celeste the mistress of the villa.

I was leaving soon anyway.

None of this would be my problem much longer.

The rest of the day passed uneventfully. Celeste played her role perfectly, quietly cleaning the house, serving meals, and keeping her head lowered whenever anyone looked her way. Luca barely acknowledged her existence. He spent the entire day beside me, behaving as though she weren't even in the room.

That evening, he handed me a glass of warm milk.

"Drink this before bed," he said with a gentle smile. "It'll help you sleep, and your body still needs the rest."

I accepted it without argument.

The moment he turned his back, I quietly emptied the glass into the sink.

Something about it made me uneasy.

When I returned, I pretended I had finished every drop.

Later that night, I lay motionless beneath the blankets with my eyes closed, keeping my breathing slow and steady while I waited.

Just as I'd expected, Luca leaned over and kissed my forehead.

"Sleep well," he whispered.

A moment later, he quietly left the room, and the bedroom door clicked softly shut behind him.

Only a few seconds passed before I heard another voice.

"Honey..." Celeste sounded nervous, though excitement lingered beneath her words. "Are you sure this is alright? Doing this while she's here?"

Luca laughed under his breath.

"You're thinking too much," he replied. "Have I ever broken a promise I made to you?"

My eyelashes fluttered.

Slowly, I opened my eyes.

Through the glass doors leading to the terrace, I could see them clearly.

They were only a few steps away.

Luca had Celeste pressed gently against the wall, his body close to hers as he lowered his head to kiss her with slow, patient affection, as though time itself had stopped.

It was as if I had disappeared.

My fingers curled tightly into my palms until my nails dug into my skin.

The pain was still there.

But it wasn't as unbearable as it had been before.

Somewhere along the way, I'd stopped believing he deserved my tears.

The following morning, Luca left early for the office while I stayed in my room, focusing on my medical designs. I had no desire to cross paths with Celeste, so the maids simply brought my meals upstairs. Breakfast came and went. Then lunch. The house remained quiet, and for several peaceful hours I was left alone.

That peace lasted until evening.

A knock sounded at my bedroom door.

When I opened it, Celeste was standing there holding a serving tray.

Her posture was perfectly straight, her chin slightly raised, and there was something ugly hidden behind the smile in her eyes.

"Camille," she greeted pleasantly. "I saw you outside the conference room that day."

My fingers tightened around the doorknob.

"I never imagined someone like you would end up this pathetic," she continued with a faint smile. "You used to be so proud. Then you lost one hand... and gave up everything you'd worked for. Tell me, how does it feel living like this?"

Disgust rolled through my stomach.

She stepped closer.

"But I suppose you didn't have much of a choice," she said almost sympathetically. "You're useless now. You can't stand on your own anymore. Without Luca, you wouldn't survive, so naturally you don't have the courage to fight for him."

Looking at her made my skin crawl.

"What exactly are you trying to say?" I asked evenly.

Her smile widened.

"I'm saying that no matter how long you hide behind your pride, you'll never keep him." She looked directly into my eyes. "Little by little, I'll take your place until there's nowhere left for you to stand."

Then she smiled with quiet satisfaction.

"Luca is mine."

My hand instinctively curled into a fist.

For a split second, I wanted to slap her across the face.

Instead, I forced myself to relax.

She wasn't worth dirtying my hands over.

There were far better ways to win.

I took a step backward, intending to shut the door.

Then I heard approaching footsteps.

The moment Celeste heard them, her entire expression transformed. The smug smile vanished instantly, replaced by wide, tear-filled eyes. Without warning, she threw herself backward. The serving tray flew from her hands, sending rice and soup splashing across her uniform.

She lifted her already reddened hand, allowing it to tremble dramatically.

"Miss Hart..." she whispered through tears. "I know you're still angry with me. If pushing me made you feel better... then I'll accept it."

Another tear rolled down her cheek.

"If you want to do it again... I won't complain."

Revulsion washed over me.

"I never touched you," I replied calmly. "You staged this yourself."

She cried even harder.

"If saying that helps you..." she sniffled, "...then I'll tell everyone I simply fell."

Luca was standing behind her.

For the briefest moment, I saw genuine pain flash across his face.

Not because of me.

Because of her.

My stomach sank.

A shadow crossed his expression before he looked at me, almost forcing himself to believe my innocence.

"Camille," he said slowly, "I trust you."

He turned toward Celeste.

"If the two of you can't live under the same roof, then she'll leave."

Celeste stared at him in disbelief.

"...What?"

Luca's voice turned ice-cold.

"Didn't you hear me?"

"Pack your things."

"You're leaving."

She bit her lip as tears welled in her eyes.

"O-Okay..."

"I'll go."

"Good."

The harshness disappeared from Luca's face the moment he looked back at me.

"Don't let someone like her ruin your mood," he said gently. "I came home early because I wanted to spend time with you. Let's go out for a while. I'll take you somewhere nice."

He took my hand and led me into the dressing room as though Celeste hadn't just put on a performance worthy of an award. He carefully chose a dress for me, matched it with jewelry, and studied each piece with complete concentration, making it seem as though I was still the center of his world.

"Get changed," he said. "I'll take care of her first."

As soon as he left the room, I activated the receiver hidden inside the ring.

His voice came through immediately.

It was gentle again.

Soft.

"Honey... I'm sorry you had to go through that," he said quietly. "Seeing her treat you like that made me so angry."

I clenched my jaw.

"But everything went according to plan," he continued. "She agreed when I said I'd send you away, which means you're finally free."

Celeste sounded confused.

"...What do you mean?"

"For now, go back to the villa," Luca explained. "After that, you can go wherever you want. You're not a prisoner anymore. Just send me a message when you arrive so I'll know you're safe."

Her voice trembled with emotion.

"You're... so good to me."

Luca let out a quiet laugh.

"You're my wife," he said without hesitation. "If I don't look after my own wife, then who else is supposed to?"

I switched off the receiver.

By then, both of my hands had gone ice cold.

That evening, Luca took me to one of the city's most exclusive Italian restaurants. Everything about the place was flawless, from the elegant dcor and perfectly plated dishes to the breathtaking skyline visible through the floor-to-ceiling windows.

It should have felt romantic.

Instead, I felt absolutely nothing.

Luca sat across from me, appearing as calm and composed as ever, but I noticed the subtle glances he kept stealing at his phone. He wasn't distracted by work.

He was waiting.

Waiting for a message from her.

Because she was his wife.

The moment his phone rang, he answered so quickly it was obvious he'd been anticipating the call. In his haste, his thumb slipped onto the wrong button.

The speakerphone turned on.

Celeste's terrified voice echoed across the table.

"I... I've been kidnapped! I don't know where they're taking me..." she cried between shaky breaths. "But maybe it's for the best. If I disappear, Miss Hart won't have to be upset anymore. Ah...! Someone, please help me!"

The call abruptly disconnected.

The color drained from Luca's face.

He immediately dialed her number.

Once.

Twice.

Again.

No answer.

Finally, he lifted his eyes to meet mine.

His voice was controlled, but the strain beneath it was impossible to miss.

"Camille... where did you send her?"

I stared at him in confusion.

"What are you talking about?"

"If you're angry, tell me." His tone grew harder with every word. "I'll deal with it myself. You don't have to dirty your own hands. Why would you do something this reckless?"

I slowly placed my fork on the table.

"I'll say this one more time," I replied evenly. "I had nothing to do with it."

Without warning, his fingers wrapped tightly around my wrist.

"So you're really going to deny it?" he snapped. "Celeste isn't mentally stable. She can't handle something like this."

My heart lurched.

"Camille," he continued impatiently, "can you stop for just a minute? I know you lost your hand, but she's suffered too. Haven't you done enough? Just let her go."

For several seconds, I couldn't even breathe.

She had suffered?

A bitter laugh almost escaped me.

She had attacked me with an axe.

Someone had protected her from facing prison.

She got to marry the man she'd always wanted.

She spent four years hidden away, cherished and cared for.

And now...

She had her freedom.

So who exactly was the victim here?

Who had spent all those years fighting alone?

I swallowed the lump in my throat and met his gaze.

"I already told you it wasn't me." My voice remained calm despite the tears burning behind my eyes. "And whether this hand was transplanted or not... it still feels pain."

Luca froze.

His eyes dropped to my wrist, where angry red marks had already begun to form beneath his grip.

"Damn it..." He immediately let go, guilt flashing across his face. "Camille, I'm sorry. I thought you were acting impulsively. I didn't mean to hurt you."

After a moment, he frowned.

"Where are the rings I gave you? Why aren't you wearing them?"

I nearly laughed.

"You accidentally gave me the men's ring," I reminded him. "It was too big, so I took it off."

He blinked in surprise before giving a small nod.

"Alright. We'll switch them back once we get home."

Just like that, the conversation ended.

It was as though Celeste's disappearance had never happened.

...

Three nights later, long after midnight, Luca's phone rang again.

He stood up immediately and headed for the door.

Just before leaving, he suddenly stopped and turned back to look at me.

I remained exactly where I was, quietly reading, making no attempt to question him or ask where he was going.

For a brief moment, uncertainty crossed his face.

It was almost as though he didn't know what to do with this quieter version of me.

He hesitated.

For one second, I thought he might stay.

Then his phone rang again.

"Something came up at the company," he said hurriedly before walking out.

He never returned that night.

Instead, a single message appeared on my phone.

[Camille, work's keeping me late tonight. Don't wait for me. Get some sleep. Love you.]

I looked at the screen for several seconds before locking my phone.

Those words no longer meant anything.

The following morning, one of the maids informed me that someone had come looking for me.

As soon as I stepped outside, something struck the back of my head.

Everything went black.

When I regained consciousness, my wrists and ankles were tightly bound, and tape sealed my mouth shut. I found myself inside a private room at a nightclub, where the distant thump of music seeped through the walls.

Someone had changed my clothes.

I was wearing the same servant's uniform and mask Celeste had worn before.

My hair...

It was gone.

The long hair Luca had always loved had been hacked away, leaving it uneven and barely reaching my ears.

The door suddenly burst open.

"Wife," Luca said in a dangerously quiet voice, "is this the woman who imprisoned you and tortured you for three days?"

"It's her!" Celeste sobbed without hesitation. "She said Miss Hart ordered her to make my life miserable... to make me beg for death. She locked me up, tortured me, and even brought men in to humiliate me." Her voice cracked as she buried her face in her hands. "I... I barely escaped alive..."

I struggled desperately against the ropes, trying to scream.

The tape reduced every sound to muffled cries.

Luca's expression darkened.

"Camille has gone too far this time." His voice was cold enough to freeze the room. "I won't lay a hand on her... but someone has to pay for what she's done."

He held out his hand.

"Bring me the salt whip."

Fear swept through my body.

Celeste wasn't simply framing me anymore.

She wanted Luca to believe I was a monster.

Someone deserving of punishment.

Luca accepted the whip before walking slowly toward me.

For the briefest moment, he paused.

His eyes narrowed slightly.

Something about me seemed familiar.

Perhaps it was my eyes.

Perhaps it was instinct.

The room was dimly lit, and I thought...

For one impossible second...

That he might recognize me.

Then Celeste wrapped her arms around him from behind.

"Honey..." she whispered tearfully. "Thank you for protecting me. That woman hurt me so much..."

In that instant, I understood why he hadn't recognized me.

I had never worn a servant's uniform.

I had always kept my hair long because he loved it that way.

The woman kneeling before him now had uneven, cropped hair, a cheap uniform, and a mask hiding half her face.

In his mind, she couldn't possibly be Camille.

I watched the last trace of hesitation disappear from his eyes.

The warmth I'd once known vanished completely, replaced by the ruthless man everyone else feared.

"If anyone dares lay a finger on my wife," he growled, lifting the whip, "I'll make them suffer a thousand times worse. Do you hear me? I'll make you regret the day you were born."

The whip cracked through the air with a deafening snap.

A split second later, it tore across my back.

Pain exploded through my body as the salt-soaked barbs ripped into my skin, leaving burning trails that felt as though they had been carved open by claws.

The first lash tore through my back, and pain exploded across every nerve in my body. I screamed, but the tape over my mouth swallowed the sound, turning it into nothing more than desperate muffled cries.

The second strike landed before I had a chance to recover.

My vision blurred instantly. It felt as though molten steel had been pressed into my skin, scorching everything it touched while ripping flesh apart.

I couldn't tell whether I wasn't getting enough air or if I was breathing too fast.

All I knew was that I couldn't breathe.

The third blow drove every ounce of strength from my body. I bit down so hard that blood filled my mouth, while violent tremors shook me from head to toe. The agony burrowed deep into my bones until it felt impossible to escape.

Then came another strike.

And another.

Then another.

He never stopped.

By the time the whip fell for the ninety-ninth time, I had long since stopped struggling.

My clothes were soaked with blood.

My body twitched uncontrollably, no longer feeling like it belonged to me.

Somewhere between consciousness and darkness, an old memory surfaced.

Luca had once sworn he would make Celeste pay.

He said he'd tie her up.

Whip her.

Make her suffer for everything she'd done to me.

He had promised.

So why...

Why was I the one kneeling here?

Why was I the one bleeding beneath his hands?

Through the haze, I heard his voice.

"Celeste," he asked evenly, as though nothing extraordinary had just happened, "how many men did she bring to violate you?"

"...Ten," Celeste answered in a trembling whisper.

Luca nodded.

"Fine."

His voice was frighteningly calm.

"Bring me a hundred of the filthiest bastards you can find."

After a brief pause, he added coldly,

"And give her something that'll make the whole thing even more entertaining."

My heart dropped into my stomach.

He stepped forward and drove the toe of his shoe into my chin, forcing my head upward.

"You thought you could lay a hand on my wife and get away with it?" he snarled. "I'm going to destroy you."

The kick knocked my mask loose.

It slid onto the floor.

"Luca..."

I forced the name past the tape, every part of me breaking apart.

"If you knew it was me..."

My voice dissolved into muffled sobs.

"...would you regret this?"

The words never reached him.

Only broken sounds escaped my mouth.

He never even glanced in my direction.

Instead, he reached for Celeste's hand.

"Don't look," he told her gently. "It's disgusting."

His voice softened.

"I'll stay with you for the next few days."

The sound of their footsteps slowly faded.

The door closed behind them.

A few moments later, someone else entered the room.

They loosened the ropes just enough to force a pill into my mouth.

I tried to spit it out.

I couldn't.

Within minutes, my entire body began burning.

The heat spread unnaturally fast, racing through my veins until every inch of my skin felt as though it had caught fire.

My heartbeat became erratic.

Breathing grew harder.

Then the men arrived.

One after another.

Filthy.

Reeking of alcohol and sweat.

They looked at me as though I weren't even human.

Hands reached for me.

Rough.

Greedy.

Disgusting.

Nausea rose violently inside me.

Then something even more horrifying happened.

The drug began taking effect.

My body reacted against my will, the unnatural heat mixing with unbearable pain until I could no longer separate one from the other.

Tears streamed uncontrollably down my face.

What...

What is happening to me?

My hand searched blindly until it found the nearest object.

A porcelain vase.

I smashed it against the floor.

Without hesitating, I grabbed one of the broken shards and drove it deep into my thigh.

Fresh pain exploded through my leg.

Sharp.

Pure.

It cut through the haze just enough to clear my mind.

When I looked up again, the men were still closing in.

There was nowhere to run.

Except...

The window behind me.

I didn't stop to think.

I sprinted toward it and threw myself through the glass.

For one terrifying moment, I thought I was dead.

Instead, I crashed onto the grass outside.

Every bone in my body screamed in protest, but I was alive.

The nightclub's back entrance stood open only a short distance away.

I forced myself to my feet and ran.

I never looked back.

Blood soaked my clothes.

My wounds burned with every step.

My body begged me to stop.

I kept running anyway.

My phone vibrated over and over inside my pocket.

Eventually, I pulled it out.

A message from Luca filled the screen.

[Camille, this project will take a few more days. Be good and wait for me at home. Love you.]

I laughed.

Not because it was funny.

Because there was nothing else left to do.

Another notification appeared almost immediately.

Your identity cancellation has been completed. All official records associated with this name are now invalid.

I stared at those words for a long time.

Then, for the first time in what felt like forever...

I smiled.

A real smile.

Camille Hart no longer existed.

...

When I returned to the villa, I packed as quickly as I could.

Years ago, Luca had taken possession of most of my important documents, believing it would keep me from ever leaving him.

Now none of that mattered.

The woman those papers belonged to was already gone.

I packed only the essentials.

Before leaving, I slipped the ring from my finger.

Dried blood still stained its surface.

I placed it carefully on the desk where I knew Luca would find it.

For a long time, I'd imagined taking revenge with my own hands.

Now I realized I didn't need to.

That ring would tell him everything.

When the truth finally reached him, it would destroy him far more completely than I ever could.

By the time I walked out of the villa, night had already fallen.

The sky stretched overhead in deep shades of blue, while the stars struggled against the glow of the city below.

Even so...

They were still there.

Stars always find a way to shine eventually.

At the airport, I purchased a one-way ticket under my new identity.

No return.

As the plane lifted off the runway and climbed into the night sky, I leaned back against my seat and slowly closed my eyes.

For the first time in years, I wasn't moving toward Luca.

I was moving toward a future that belonged only to me.

Goodbye, Luca.

I could only hope our paths would never cross again.